


The Sphere

by mmorgan317



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Doctor Whump, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:23:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmorgan317/pseuds/mmorgan317
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Torchwood finds a mysterious sphere just in time to receive a visit from their friendly neighborhood Doctor who has a weird reaction to the ball. Mayhem ensues for the group as they try to fix their broken Doctor. Doctor Whump.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Owen is dead but Ianto is still alive. The Doctor has no companion and has never met Donna Noble. It’s pretty much an AU where I’ve changed things that I don’t like about both shows. 
> 
> Author’s Note: I don’t exactly know when I’m setting this in both shows but I am completely ignoring the end of it. Owen is dead but Martha is working for them in his place. 10 is by himself; he has no companion traveling with him. 
> 
> AN2: This is more a Doctor Who fic that takes place in Torchwood so it could be seen as a crossover (and I will be posting it as one) but it’s not really meant to be.

Captain Jack Harkness sat behind his desk at the Torchwood base in Cardiff twiddling with the alien sphere they had recently found at a crash site. It had been a busy week between capturing more and more Weevils (the suckers seemed to be going hog wild lately and popping up everywhere!) and the random encounters with other unknowns that the team had barely had time to breathe.

 

He continue to turn the sphere over and over in his hands trading the item from one hand to the other, tossing it like it was a baseball instead of an alien artifact. It was about the size of a small bouncy ball that you would find at your local Target or Walmart however unlike the bouncy ball this shape does not bounce. Its hard shell was made of an alloy that wasn’t known to Earth nor any other planet that they had on record.

 

There were markings across it that Jack had a vague recognition of though at the moment his mind couldn’t determine where he’d seen them. They looked a mixture of ancient Arabic and simple curly-cues that had been somehow etched into the metal with such precision diamond engravers would be jealous.

 

A soft knock sounded in his doorway followed by Ianto carrying two cups of something steaming hot. Deep blue eyes roamed over him, looking at him with such excitement and desire that Jack was tempted to throw the man onto his desk and sex him to death right then and there. However over the years Jack has learned a bit of self restraint and remained seated in his chair, fiddling with the sphere.

 

“Find out what it is yet?” Ianto asked absently placing a cup of hot coffee on the desk in front of Jack.

 

The Captain grabbed the cup and took a deep sip, savoring the flavor of the magnificent coffee mixed with milk and just a little bit of cinnamon and nutmeg. He looked up at Ianto with grateful, and hungry, eyes. “Not yet. I think I might need to call in an expert.”

 

“What expert?” Ianto hadn’t heard of them ever using outside help, with the exception of Martha of course, so the mere fact that his boss and lover is suggesting it now intrigues him. “Another UNIT member?”

 

“No although we do share the common acquaintance in him,” Jack answered with a faraway look in his green eyes. Excitement replaced the look as a strange wheezing sound echoed through the middle of the hub and a strange but strong wind swept through the base, flinging stray papers everywhere and a shirt or two up around their owner’s chest.

 

Jack downed the rest of his coffee then bounded down out of his office to the spot by the fountain where the TARDIS was currently materializing. Ianto followed behind incredulously wondering who it was that has his friend so happy.

 

Gwen and Tosh quickly grabbed their guns and pulled them out, aiming at the door of the big blue box. They didn’t know what was going on but they weren’t going to take any chances where safety was concerned.

 

Martha was busy performing an autopsy on their latest dead alien. She liked to listen to music from her ipod while she did those so she had no idea that a familiar friend had come for a visit.

 

The right hand side door of the blue Police Box opened and spiky chestnut hair poked out followed by the rest of the owner’s head. The upper torso soon followed, halfway peeking out of the safety of the TARDIS.

 

“Hello,” the Doctor greeted with a pained smile, “Did you miss me?” The question was more out of greeting than arrogance making the Captain’s smile broaden. He folded his arms over his chest in an attempt to stamp down on his excitement.

 

“Actually no, could you take another spin or two around the universe and come back?” he asked using his index finger to make an invisible circle around an invisible universe.

 

In his excitement Jack didn’t noticed the way the Doctor was holding his right arm closely to his side and rushed to his friend, not bothering to give him a chance to answer before he enveloped him in a bone-crushing, bear hug. The smile on his face faded quickly when the man he was currently crushing let out a loud, pained, “OW!”

 

The Captain released his hold of the Time Lord and held him at arms length, not too tightly of course. His normally stoic face creased in concern when he saw the Doctor grimace deeply, then use his left arm to cradle the right and hold it close to his torso.

 

“What happened?” he asked as his eyes roamed over the seemingly injured arm trying to diagnose the problem.

 

The Doctor grimaced again and squirmed under the Captain’s scrutiny. “Er is Martha around by chance?”

 

“She’s performing an autopsy right now is it urgent?” Ianto asked before Jack could answer. He could have smacked himself for letting his jealousy get in the way of his professionalism but he didn’t know this man and though he may be “injured” he wasn’t about to get Martha unless it was an emergency; not that it was up to him really. Jack would more than likely override him any second.

 

As expected Jack threw a glare at his employee but the Doctor merely stood where he was and studied the professional man with a practiced eye. “Well if she’s busy I can wait,” he answered giving a shrug and a grimace when his hurting limb reminded him not to do that. “Have you got a waiting room or someplace I can keep myself busy until she’s available? I don’t think the TARDIS fancies me hanging around in her for too much longer.”

 

The Torchwood members threw each other quizzical, confused and doubting looks but soon they felt the cool, damp air in the hub fill with an annoyed buzzing hum that caused the lot of them to actually take a step away from the machine.

 

“What’s all this then, a party?” Martha’s voice asked from the autopsy room that she’s lovingly named the cellar. She stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the big blue box in the middle of the Torchwood hum. “Doctor?”

 

Gwen, Ianto and Tosh all turned their heads from Martha to the man who still stood just outside the Police Box.

 

“Wait a minute,” Gwen began. She was quickly silenced by an impatient swish of Jack’s hand.

 

Martha rushed up to the Doctor but stopped short when she saw his guarded and pained posture. “Are you alright? What happened?”

 

She gently grabbed her friend by his left elbow and started guiding him to the closest chair which happened to be the bucket seats by an abandoned coffee table. Gently she pulled his right arm out of the hold of his left then maneuvered it out of the sleeve of his suit. She waited a few minutes to give her friend time to slow his breathing before she began examining the arm starting at the wrist and heading up.

 

A year or so ago the mere thought of examining the Time Lord in such an intimate manner would have made her skin tingle with excitement and she would have had to strive to hide her body’s reaction to being allowed to touch him. However things have changed and Martha was finally able to look at the alien that was her best friend, her love interest and her companion for a year and see only a friend.

 

Steadily her hands moved up the slender, muscled arm moving past the elbow and up to the bicep. She touched a soft spot that wasn’t supposed to be soft and winced when she felt the bone of the humerus move beneath her touch signaling a broken bone.

 

Ignoring the Doctor’s gasp of pain Martha continued with her examination. She felt more breaks the closer she wandered to his shoulder and soon she felt a jagged edge in his skin suggesting a laceration of some sort. She hadn’t had time to put gloves on before she began her examination, a fact that she wasn’t worried about since the Time Lord biology could handle any infection that came its way with the speed of a bullet passing through air. One of her nails caught on something taught and stringy and she felt something sleek and wet beneath her fingers.

 

The Doctor gasped and actually whimpered under her touch causing Martha to withdraw immediately, flapping his suit jacket back over the arm.

 

“Sorry,” she apologized gently as she walked over to the nearest sink to wash her hands. “Why didn’t you seek medical attention sooner? Surely the TARDIS could have patched you up in the time it took you to come here and get my attention.”

 

“She’s being a bit temperamental right now and refuses to help. Seems to think I need a vacation though I don’t know what gave her that idea.”

 

Jack and Martha gave each other a look before they turned the same look onto the Doctor. “Seriously? You don’t think you could use a break?”

 

“Of course not,” the Doctor answered sounding as if that was the silliest suggestion ever made. “It’s not like I wear down as easily as you humans do and honestly how do you lot sleep so much? I’ll never understand it. Time Lords don’t need that much sleep. We prefer to not sleep most of our very long lives away – you get more done that way.”

 

“Right. Before I point out the fact that you’re paler than a white sheet, you look like you haven’t eaten for a month and I suppose you could use a few years of sleep let’s get you to the cellar so I can fix up your arm,” Martha suggested using his left arm to guide him to an upright position then leading him to what served as their medical bay.

 

The group stared unabashedly at the Doctor’s back. His light blue dress shirt was slashed and torn. Ragged claw lines were carved into the fabric with blood red stains drying on it. Through the holes in the fabric the team members could see just how deeply the flesh had been torn, giving them a small lesson in the anatomy of the shoulder; if all people were Time Lords of course.

 

Jack threw Ianto another glare, pointedly looking between the Doctor’s bloody back and his lover. His expression was one of incredulity, anger and disappointment. “And you would have had him wait,” he said evenly. As Ianto opened his mouth to speak the Captain threw up his hand in a silencing motion, “Fix the Doctor some tea would you? He’s going to be asking for it pretty soon.”

 

Ianto nodded, turning his sad eyes down to the floor. Jack hated seeing his lover and friend so bothered over something that wasn’t truly that big of a deal. He walked over to the man who hadn’t moved from the same spot he’d walked to when the Doctor had first arrived and reached out a hand, cupping his cheek and trailing down to the well carved chin, using it to make the Welshman look at him.

 

He leaned in for a brief kiss, letting his lips linger a little longer than was necessary on the mouth that he couldn’t resist before he spun around and followed to where the Doctor and Martha were talking and laughing.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’m right in assuming that anesthesia wouldn’t work on you and the same for pain medication?” Martha asked as she helped the Doctor out of his shirts.

 

“Yes, well for the anesthetic at any rate. I can have pain medication but only if there isn’t any aspirin in it which most of your Earth medicines are.”

 

Tossing the ruined clothing to the ground out of the way, Martha moved closer to the Doctor’s right side within easy reach of the wounds and her portable medical table that held her instruments and supplies.

 

“Well Doctor this is Torchwood. We do have medicines from more than just Earth available,” Jack interjected cheerily from the catwalk above the room.

 

The Doctor hissed as the antiseptic came into contact with the open scratches. It took all his restraint not to tear away from the painful contact but he managed it by keeping his posture so rigid if he were to jerk in any sudden movement the bones would likely snap with the force. “I’ll be alright. Best to wait until we’re done; it makes it easier to sleep.”

 

“Are you sure? That was just a precursor, getting the shallowest of the scratches first. I have to dig into the deeper ones now- what were you doing rolling around in dirt before you came?”

 

“Something like that,” the Doctor replied with a deep grimace as latex covered hands prodded one of the deeper lacerations. The veins in his neck popped out blue against the red flush of his skin as he held his breath in an attempt to not yell in pain.

 

“If you’re sure,” Martha began. “Jack come down here and hold him up. He’s going to need something to squeeze and you’re as good a teddy bear as any.”

 

“Hey I think I represent that remark,” Jack replied sounding indignant at the intended insult. None the less he came down to the middle of the room where the Doctor sat on the edge of the chair, his hands gripping the edge with enough force to lose blood flow and dig his short nails into the pleather fabric.

 

“I need you to hold him upright and still,” Martha instructed professionally, the medical part of her brain trying to separate itself from the realization that she was about to cause a dear friend a lot of pain.

 

“Doctor, hold on to me,” Jack commanded as he loosened the Time Lord’s grip on the table/chair. The Doctor’s hands held onto Jack’s shoulders with a vice-like grip, crushing the soft tissue, sinew and muscles beneath.

 

Martha did her best to be as quick as possible but she also had to make sure to take her time in order to get all the foreign matter out of the wounds as possible. At first glance she’d thought that all she needed to do was stitch him up, set the bones and brace the arm and shoulder against any movement but closer examination proved her original assessment wrong.

 

Whatever had done this damage had been long, wide and partially sharp able of digging deeply through all the layers of skin and over half the layers of thick muscle beneath.

 

“How long did you wait before you came and got me?” she half asked, half accused of Jack as she grabbed a stitching needle and degradable string. Mercilessly she slipped the needle through the horribly torn fibers of his muscle, helping pull it closer so it could heal quicker.

 

The Doctor groaned horribly, the sound coming out a cross between a groan and a scream, as his grip tightened even more. Jack winced knowing he would end up with two deep bruises in the shape of hands by the time they were finished but he didn’t mind if it was the only way he could help his friend.

 

“I was just about to come and get you when you showed up,” he explained hoping to be able to leave Ianto out of it. Jack knew that Martha was just as protective of the Doctor as he was and if she found out the Welshman had flat out refused to allow the Time Lord to see her right away she might just put down her medical equipment here and now and haul off and slap him two or three times, after she was done chewing him out of course.

 

“And that was after how many minutes of conversation? How long from his arrival did you know he was injured?” She interrogated frustrated that her friend had been left in such excruciating pain for so long.

 

“I didn’t tell him,” the Doctor growled out. He found it hard to put any cheerfulness in his voice when all he felt was pain so he didn’t bother trying.

 

Gratitude swirled through Jack. He didn’t know why the Doctor was covering for him but at the moment he couldn’t be happier about it.

 

The Doctor being the Doctor didn’t take insults to heart; he received them too often for him to care. Most beings to him, while being marvelous, brilliant and fascinating were also ignorant and miniscule in the grand scheme of things.

 

Jack new that the Doctor hadn’t taken the stern dismissal from Ianto personally but Jack had. It annoyed him that his friend would be so uncaring towards a being he considered one of his oldest and best friends.

 

He winced as the Time Lord’s grip tightened even more, how he didn’t understand, but soon replaced the wince with an even look, smiling whenever the man who was clinging to him looked up at him with pleading brown eyes.

 

“How’s it going back there?” he asked conversationally for the benefit of all in the room.

 

A light _ping_ echoed throughout the room as Martha dumped the used needled into a basin for disposal or sterilization. “Almost done; I just need to apply some cream to the stitches to help with drying, itchiness and pain then I can bandage them up.” The two men released sighs of relief but Martha continued still, “Then I can set his arm and brace it.”

 

“His arm, what’s wrong with his arm? I thought he just had the scratches.”

 

“Jack you should know when the Doctor does something it’s never halfway,” Martha teased though her chocolate brown eyes spoke volumes of the concern she felt. “He’s broken his humerus in at least three different places.”

 

“Well that’s not very funny,” Jack said with a half smile. “Badda bump, psh,” he added sounding like a drum and cymbal after a bad joke.

 

Both Martha and the Doctor looked at him with a look that said, “Seriously?” but neither spoke as Martha stepped around and grabbed the Doctor’s upper right arm. With a sharp, professional twist she set the misaligned bones of his humerus into place while doing her best to ignore the hoarse scream that echoed from her friend.

 

She wrapped a thin, foam medical brace around the bicep then attached a plastic clamshell brace on top, fixing the band of it over his head and around his chest before securing it to the injured arm. She wrapped another foam medical brace around the back of the strap that attached to his chest to provide cushioning and separating the strap from the newly inserted stitches.

 

“Okay time for the sling,” she said with a smile more than a little happy that her work was done. She hadn’t enjoyed causing her patient pain that the feeling was only increased by the fact that her patient also happened to be her friend.

 

“Martha I’m not really sure I’ll need it,” the Doctor announced gruffly.

 

“You may be called the Doctor but between the two of us I’m the one who actually has the medical degree so why don’t you leave that decision up to me hm?”

 

“Oi when did you get so bossy?” the Time Lord replied sounding indignant but looking anything but as a grin spread across his face as she helped him slip the sling on.

 

“You should know Doc, she’s always bossy when it comes to her patient’s health,” Jack said with a cheeky smile.

 

“Which you are. Hey don’t glare at me,” Martha defended holding up her hands in innocence, “blame the TARDIS if you don’t like it. Tomorrow. Right now you’re going to rest,” she turned her attention to Jack, “Is there a bed he could use and get to.”

 

Jack frowned slightly. The ‘get to’ portion of her question told him that the offer of his bed was out of the question since the Doctor would have to climb down and up to get to it but he also assumed that Martha wanted the Time Lord to sleep right away which meant that trying to find him a room was out of the question.

 

An inviting hum filled the hub and for the first time since he’d arrived, the Doctor relaxed on the chair.

 

“I think the TARDIS is saying he can stay with her until we can find him a different place to stay,” Jack answered though he knew Martha already knew that.

 

“Okay, lets go Doctor and don’t think of locking those doors. One of us will be checking on you every now and then and we’ll need access. I know the TARDIS will provide whomever it is directions to your room so that won’t be a problem-“

 

“Oi how do you know the TARDIS would be so hospitable?”

 

Martha smiled sweetly, “Because she just told me. She may be willing to let you sleep in her but she still wants you to take a vacation and relax which means letting us help you heal as slowly as your “superior Time Lord biology” can go. Now come on, march mister.”

 

She waited until the Doctor started moving before grabbing two vials and a syringe. The best thing for him right now would be to rest which wouldn’t be very comfortable for him without the help of pain medication (care of the Pari planet) and a sedative from Earth. She knew his body would process the sedative too quick for it to work longer than twenty minutes but she figured that would be just long enough for him to fall deeply asleep and let his own biology take over.

 

The three of them walked into the TARDIS and straight to the Doctor’s bedroom where a big, cozy, inviting bed waited complete it several pillows. Martha stepped forward and placed half of the pillows against the wall then motioned the Time Lord to come and sit down, which he did obediently. Once he was seated Martha added a couple more pillows, making sure the softest of them were in a position to support the injured and torn back and shoulder.

 

“I’m going to give you a non-aspirin pain medication and a sedative alright?” Martha asked as she filled the syringe with the vial of pain medication.

 

The Doctor gave a loud sigh, not at all happy with the idea of being drugged. “Yeah alright,” he conceded at last.

 

She offered an encouraging smile before swiftly inserting the needle full of both medications into his uninjured arm, pushed down the plunger then pulled out again, using her thumb in an effort to soothe the irritated skin as she drew little circles.

 

“Alright. Get some rest and Jack or I will be in to check on you in a bit,” she instructed professionally offering a sincere smile as his eyes began to droop. She gave him a kiss on the forehead before she headed for the exit.

 

Jack offered a smile as well, bent down to repeat the same kiss that Martha gave then followed his friend out the door and out of the TARDIS.

 

Since Martha still had an autopsy to finish they decided that the first person to check on the Doctor should be Jack who agreed readily. But first he needed to have a conversation with Ianto and the rest of his team. He knew they had questions and he was finally willing to answer them.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

_“I can't decide_  
Whether you should live or die  
Oh, you'll probably go to heaven  
Please don't hang your head and cry  
No wonder why  
My heart feels dead inside  
It's cold and hard and petrified  
Lock the doors and close the blinds  
We're going for a ride  
  
Oh I could throw you in the lake  
Or feed you poisoned birthday cake  
I wont deny I'm gonna miss you when you're gone  
Oh I could bury you alive  
But you might crawl out with a knife  
And kill me when I'm sleeping  
That's why  
  
I can't decide  
Whether you should live or die-”

 

“What the hell is that?!” Jack snapped loudly, cutting the song off in mid chorus. He had to remind himself that they didn’t mean anything by it; they hadn’t known about his, the Doctor’s or Martha’s experience in the year that never was so they didn’t know the awful memories they were bringing up by playing it. “No, scratch that, turn it off.”

 

Gwen jumped at the sharp tone he’d used and quickly turned the radio off. “It was a favorite song of a listener. They called in and asked the DJ to play it, that’s all.”

 

“Yeah well do me a favor, if ever you hear that song playing around here – turn it off.”

 

The group gave him incredulous, curious looks but all nodded their assent. They all stood silent for a full five minutes before Jack took his seat at the table and the rest followed.

 

“Well ask,” the Captain commanded leisurely. He’d pretty much resigned himself to the bombardment of questions that were no doubt coming any moment.

 

“Is that the same Doctor for whom Torchwood was founded?” Ianto asked almost immediately.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well shouldn’t we be arresting him instead of helping him?”

 

“No.”

 

“But why not?” Gwen asked stopping Ianto’s flowing questions. Though hers was also a question it wasn’t quite so “off with his head!” that Ianto’s were.

 

They all knew that Ianto was jealous of how close Jack and the Doctor had seemed but they were also curious about the being that was named “The Doctor” so they weren’t as ready to turn him into a science project just yet.

 

“Queen Victoria put together Torchwood to make herself feel safer should something else that she doesn’t understand come attacking. That something else is not the Doctor. He has saved this world fifty times more than we ever could and I trust him with my life.”

 

“Is he the reason you disappeared for months?” Ianto asked determined. “What happened while you were gone?”

 

Jack sighed. He’d been hoping there would be some more, simpler, questions before they’d arrived at this one. But no; Ianto, good old, stubborn, determined, jealous Ianto refused to make things simple. “Right, who wants some coffee or tea?”

 

“Jack,“ they all argued exasperatedly.

 

“It’s going to be a long, complicated story,” Martha’s voice answered for him from the doorway. Jack turned around and gave her an inquisitive, concerned look when he saw tears glistening in her eyes. “I heard the radio and thought I’d come see if I was missing out on the party. Do you need help?”

 

“No I think I got it. Why don’t you go check on the Doctor? I think the TARDIS is getting anxious and bored.”

 

Martha nodded giving a small smile. She looked around the room at the excited faces of those she’d come to call friends and tried to hide the hurt and anger she felt at their unintentional reminder. “Be patient,” she warned evenly before she turned around and headed for the blue Police Box.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

Gwen, Tosh and Ianto sat in the meeting room digesting the information they’d just been given. Jack had left to give them this time and to check on the Doctor and Martha. They suspected that he just wanted to be with the people he’d experienced that horrible ordeal with in an effort to soothe his worrying and tormented mind.

 

Their minds rebelled against the tale they’d just heard but given what they did on a daily basis there wasn’t a way to deny the truth. Uncomfortable silence filled the air of the room as shame covered them in a blanket, wearing down their resistance to it.

 

They’d spent the summer cursing their boss for leaving them while they learned the ins and outs of the Torchwood hub and all the while he had been exposed to extremely deadly radiation, died twice, tortured, chained, forced to watch his friend get tortured, been barely fed enough to stay alive, and been forced to feel helpless which was a torture and a taunt in and of itself for the “take-charge” captain.

 

He’d explained Martha’s part in the entire thing and their hearts bled for her as well. It’s a hard thing to be separated from friends, left worrying about what was happening to them while you were forced to be the lone wolf, forever making acquaintances but never getting attached.

 

When Jack had gotten to the end with the Master dying on the floor from a gunshot that was fired by his wife and the Doctor holding him, crying for him the group had burst out with indignant questions and angry surmises. It appalled them that the Time Lord could mourn someone who had spent the better part of a year not only torturing himself but their friend and boss as well.

 

However Jack silenced them with a wave of his hand. It had been difficult because, they could tell, a part of him agreed with them. They could see it had hurt him that the Doctor had mourned the Master so deeply when he’d done nothing but hurt and kill. But he eventually went on to explain a small part of the Doctor’s history telling them about a Time War that had taken place against something called a Dalek and how the planet, Gallifrey, had been destroyed along with everyone on it just to save the rest of the universe, leaving the Doctor the last of his race.

 

Silent tears had begun to stream down Gwen and Tosh’s faces at this point in Jack’s tale. They couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for the Doctor to watch as his planet, his friends and his people to be destroyed. Ianto felt along the same lines as they did but he refused to shed tears.

 

Jack finished his story explaining that the Master was the only other Time Lord around other than the Doctor, breathing hope into the lonely alien – a hope that had been killed when the Master refused to regenerate. The deep mourning made more sense to the group now but they still felt a small bit of indignance on behalf of their friend.

 

“Should we go check on them?” Gwen asked snapping them all out of their memories. The group stared at each other silently trying to decide who should do it.

 

“I’ll go; see if they want tea,” Ianto offered after a few moments’ hesitation. He remembered Jack saying that the Doctor would want some once he was done getting stitched up but the request had never come in deference of getting the wounded alien some rest.

 

He got up and went to the coffee and tea station expertly making three cups of tea and one cup of coffee. The sweet aroma filled the hub lulling all under its protection into a sense of home and safety.

 

When it came time to actually entering the blue Police Box, which was called the TARDIS, Ianto found himself reluctant to enter. He didn’t want to be intruding on anything but he was curious about the time machine and concerned for his friend.

 

He took a step forward but when he tried to cross the threshold it felt like a force field was holding him back. He was about to call for help, or maybe just ask if he could enter when Martha, Jack and the Doctor came from a hallway and walked around the main console of the ship.

 

“Ianto, what are you doing here?” Jack asked almost able to hide the suspicion from his voice.

 

“I thought you might like a cup of tea,” he answered focusing most of his gaze onto the Doctor to whom he was mostly talking to.

 

“I could, thank you,” the Doctor responded sounding cheerful despite the fact he looked like he could fall over from exhaustion. Ianto noticed his smile didn’t fully reach the eyes and for a moment felt bad for being so rude. “Come on in,” the Time Lord invited with a wave of his hand.

 

Ianto tried to move but the field still prevented him from moving. “I would but it seems as though I can’t.”

 

The Doctor frowned but didn’t reply. After a few moments he said, “Let him in ol’ girl, it’s okay.”

 

The atmosphere in the room turned from complacent and motherly to annoyed and almost angry as the force field was lowered and Ianto almost fell into the ship. He righted himself quickly but the angry feeling didn’t cease and he almost backed out of the ship in spite of the Doctor’s invitations.

 

“Oi stop it!” the Doctor commanded sternly freezing Ianto in place. “Sorry about that,” he apologized with a tired smile, “she’s not too fond of strangers.” He stepped forward and grabbed one of the cups of tea, sipping it contentedly. “This is very good,” he complimented with another tired smile.

 

“Ianto makes the best,” Jack beamed looking at the Welshman with pride lighting his blue eyes.

 

“I don’t remember her not liking strangers,” Martha said bringing everyone’s focus away from tea and to the inhospitable TARDIS.

 

“Well you weren’t really a stranger to her by the time you entered,” the Doctor reasoned easily though the pointed look he gave Ianto told him that he was lying through his teeth.

 

“Come on, lets get you back in bed,” Jack mothered while at the same time swiftly changing the topic of discussion. It had been nice to come and find the Doctor and Martha laughing and walking around the cold, empty halls of the TARDIS; it meant that the Time Lord was healing but he still looked incredibly worn out and Jack didn’t want him overdoing it.

 

“I’ll just leave this here,” Ianto said. His cheeks had gained a faint reddish tone of embarrassment. He didn’t really fancy seeing the Doctor’s bedroom nor did he relish watching his friend tuck the alien in. “I hope you feel better soon,” he added and he truly meant it.

 

Martha stepped forward and grabbed the tray from Ianto’s hands knowing there wasn’t really an available table to place it on. “Thank you,” she said as she lifted it out of his hands and he knew she meant for more than the tea.

 

Without waiting to see if the Doctor or Jack would say or do anything, Ianto scurried out of the ship as quickly as his professional manner would let him. He guessed that the ship didn’t want him there and he wasn’t about to stick around where he wasn’t wanted.

 

From what he’d read on the Doctor his ship was sentient and able of communication when she wanted. He figured the ship wasn’t happy with him for how he’d treated her owner and was expressing it as loudly as she could.

 

 _Okay, okay, I’m going,_ he snapped at the constant nudge from the ship. He could have sworn he heard a petulant **_GOOD_** come in reply. Could ships pout?

 

He retreated to his little corner of the hub and waited, impatiently though it didn’t look like it, for Jack to come out of the ship.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

“What’s wrong?” the Doctor asked his friends once he was sitting down on the mattress of his bed. He’d felt better when he’d woken up and though he’d done his best not to make any form of twisting movement in order to avoid pulling on the stitches, his back still seared with pain from the mere action of walking around.

 

“Nothing,” they both replied a little too quickly for his taste.

 

Martha sat down next to him pulling on her latex medical gloves, “Sit still. I’m just going to check the stitches and make sure there’s no infection.”

 

He winced as she pulled the taped gauze off and gently prodded the stitches. Opting for staring intently at Jack rather than focusing on the pain that swept through his back and down his right arm the Doctor studied the immortal before him, his quick brain working through something.

 

Whether or not he knew he was doing it Jack was projecting (very loudly the Doctor might add) everything that had been happening since his arrival.

 

The Time Lord saw the spherical object the Captain had been playing with as he’d arrived; he put that knowledge aside in a small room in his mind for later when he wasn’t so focused on solving a puzzle.

 

He saw the jealousy sparking off Ianto Jones like fireworks on America’s Fourth of July. He saw the reproachful look Jack gave the Welshman as he accompanied Martha and the Doctor to the examination and he felt the worry coming from the immortal as he helped support the injured Gallifreyan while Martha cleaned and stitched him up.

 

Tears glistened in his eyes when he heard “the song”; the blasted song that he didn’t want to hear ever again. His mind flooded with memories from the year that never was; images flashing so quickly his mind couldn’t keep up and emotions flowing so swiftly they were carried on the insane current of a river, choking him, drowning him.

 

The Doctor was hauled out of the depth by Jack’s projecting only to be drowned once again by the extreme emotions coming from the immortal. His own experiences mixed with Jacks confusing his mind and tricking his body into thinking that it had experienced everything that Jack had. His chest tightened in an effort to choke back tears and the first deep breath he drew was to the concerned tone of his name coming from the Captain.

 

“Doctor?” Jack knelt down in front of the man sitting on the bed. Tears were streaming down the Time Lord’s face and his breathing was coming out ragged through barely parted lips. He reached out a hand to cup the Doctor’s shoulder and gave a gentle shake, “Doctor what’s wrong?”

 

“I am so sorry,” the Time Lord responded almost desperately. His throat threatened to close on him as he tried to hold back more tears. Drawing in a deep breath, he tried to calm his nerves and put a lid on the bottle of overflowing emotions. He cleared his throat attempting to strengthen his voice before he spoke again, “You told them.”

 

Martha stopped her ministrations, her fingers frozen in three parts shock and one part worry. How did he know that?

 

Jack stared evenly at his friend. There were so many responses he could think of but he finally settled on, “Yeah.”

 

Pity and sympathy filled the beautiful brown eyes making Jack want to smack him. He shrugged hoping to radiate nonchalance before he started pacing back and forth in the room. “They needed to be told.”

 

The Doctor nodded then drew in a deep breath, “So what’s on the agenda for today? Got any curious alien artifacts you need help with?”

 

Jack stopped his pacing to stare at his friend then laughed. If ever there was a being who could compartmentalize, it was the Doctor. He compartmentalized everything that he didn’t want to feel which came in handy most times but it also served to drag him down centimeter by centimeter with every bottled emotion. “That’s up to Doctor Jones.”

 

“And I think right now you need to rest. You can help around Torchwood tomorrow.” Martha added more cream to the stitches then replaced the bandage before she stood off the bed. She helped the Time Lord scoot back against his mountain of pillows, cushioning and supporting his back. “Do you need anything for the pain?”

 

“No I’m alright enough for now. I don’t really like drugs, they make you all woozy and fuzzy headed; not my idea of a good time really and it makes it even harder to get some restorative sleep.” He offered a smile that didn’t reach his eyes then closed his eyes, leaning his head against the pillow that supported it. It was beginning to drive him batty how much sleep he needed just to heal. How in the name of Gallifrey did humans do this every night??

 

“We’ll leave you to get some rest,” Jack intoned, holding out his arm to usher Martha out of the ship. “Do you want us to wake you for dinner? You look like you could eat.”

 

The Doctor let out a breathy laugh, “I suppose I am a bit thin but no don’t wake me. I’ll wake when I’m ready.”

 

“Very well. We’ll see you when we see you.” And with those parting words the two Torchwood members left him to sleep and heal.

 

Exhaustion weighed him down like an over abundant gravity field. The Doctor did his best to rid his mind of the memories of him and his friends being tortured endlessly for twelve months but in the end it was fruitless and he fell asleep to the sound of Jack’s screams ringing through his ears.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

Jack sat at his desk mindlessly playing with the sphere. It had been twelve hours since he and Martha had left the Doctor to rest and they hadn’t heard a peep from either the Time Lord or the ship. He knew that the Doctor slept for long periods of time when he was injured but it still unnerved him; the alien was never still for more than a few hours so twelve plus hours worried him.

 

He placed the sphere onto his desk in his frustration, preparing to go and check on the Doctor when a faint whispering coming from the sphere drew his attention, hypnotizing him, coaxing him into touching it.

 

Just as his fingers grazed over the cool steel a strong hand clasped over his own. It felt as if lightning had struck the two people as head seared through their hands traveling up from their fingers through their nerves straight to their heads. Blinding pain struck with eerie precision, rendering the people unconscious instantly.

 

Both people fell to the floor as the effects of the sphere wore off. The first one to come to was Jack who looked around in confusion. His first question was why was he on the floor and the second was what the hell just happened.

 

With a groan he lifted his head and looked around, surprised to find legs sporting a familiar blue suit and white Converse trainers not more than a few feet away. “Doc?” he called hoarsely. His heart rate climbed drastically when he received nothing in return. “Doc, you okay?”

 

An answering groan helped calm him down briefly before his worrying mind reminded him that the Doctor was injured before the incident, there was no telling how much more damage that “lightening strike” had done.

 

Demanding that his limbs cooperate, Jack eased onto his hands and knees then started crawling to where the previously prone form was starting to move. He’d just reached the Doctor and had placed is now bleeding head in his lap when Martha showed up closely followed by Ianto, Gwen and Tosh.

 

“Jack what happened?” Martha asked as she knelt down next to the Captain and began examining both of them. Since Jack was the one that was less injured she began with him, finishing quickly before moving on to the Doctor who was currently struggling to open his eyes.

 

“It was the sphere,” the Doctor answered before groaning. “Ow.” He brought his non-injured hand to his head in an effort to massage away the beginnings of a migraine.

 

“You’ve got quite the bump there sir,” Martha informed, gently examining the bruise covered scratch just above his left eyebrow. “Couldn’t you have fallen somewhere other than against the desk?”

 

“Sorry, next time a memory infusing device attacks my mind I’ll try to fall in a more convenient spot.” He tried to sit up but was pushed back down by Martha’s hand.

 

“None of that until I’ve had a chance to check you over. How’s your arm? Did you hurt it more in the fall? How about your back?”

 

“Both are fine just sore, can I get up now?” Pain filled eyes looked up at Jack’s anxious, pained ones. “You alright?”

 

“I’m fine,” Jack announced confidentally in an effort to ease his friends concern. When the Time Lord glared at him as a response he knew it hadn’t worked. “I’ve got one hell of a headache but otherwise I’ll live.”

 

Jack waited until he received a nod from Martha that it was okay then he helped his friend to sit up not missing the grimaces that crossed his face when someone grazed his arm or back.

 

“So what was that thing again?” he asked choosing for conversation rather than silence.

 

“It’s kind of like the Chameleon Arch but instead of re-writing a Time Lord’s biology it holds his memories and in a form, his essence. It usually requires a Time Lord who wants to disappear and the use of a human. The sphere acts as a conductor of sorts and transfers the memories of the Time Lord to the human host.” The Doctor grimaced and brought both hands up to his head again, massaging gently at his throbbing temples.

 

“So I have your memories?” Jack asked almost sounding hopeful. It wasn’t that he wanted to be the Doctor but sometimes it would be nice to know what was constantly going through his mind.

 

The Doctor nodded then grimaced, “And someone else’s. I’m not sure who but someone else has managed to store themselves in there and it used me to transfer to you.”

 

“How do you know that?” Tosh asked gently stepping forward and taking the now dead sphere in her hands.

 

“I heard it before Jack touched it.”

 

“There’s some writing on here but we haven’t been able to translate it,” Tosh said facing the glyphs towards the Time Lord.

 

The Doctor squinted at the letters but couldn’t fully make them out. He shook his head trying to clear the cobwebs that the transference created but to no avail. “I’ll have to look at it later if you don’t mind; this headache is making it hard to focus on anything.” As if to emphasize his point, the Time Lord winced painfully and dropped his head into his hands.

 

“Right then, come on. Lets get the two of you to bed. I have a feeling you both could use the rest-“

 

“-and some prescription strength pain relievers,” Jack added with a deep grimace of his own.

 

The Doctor frowned at his friend’s pain. A headache wasn’t the worst thing in the universe to experience, he imagined being turned into a Cyberman was, but the fact that it was caused by something HIS people did and knowing just how much pain it did cause, the Time Lord reached up and connected their minds in an attempt to soothe his friend’s pain.

 

Jack let out a breath of relief as his headache abated. It wasn’t until he heard a deep groan next to him that he realized the Doctor had done something to help relieve his pain. He looked over and found the Time Lord slumped over cradling his broken arm to his chest; his head was bent and his left hand seemed to be a permanent fixture as it massaged the aching temples. A tear tracked down the young, angular face and the Captain made an instant decision.

 

“Come on Doc, let’s get you back to bed.” He scooped up the pained alien, gently holding him close to his chest so as not to jostle him while he walked down the steps and into the TARDIS where the ship was anxiously waiting the return of her pilot.

 

He settled the Time Lord down onto the bed, tucked him in then left desperate to get to his own bed for once in his life. The Doctor had dulled his headache considerably but it was still present and threatening to get worse with ever passing minute. He passed Gwen, Ianto, Tosh and Martha, completely ignoring them as he marched straight to where his own bed was stored. There was a moment’s pause to worry about the Doctor then Jack was out completely unaware that an alien conscience was invading his mind as he slept.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Martha watched Jack carefully scoop the Doctor into his arms then tenderly walk to the TARDIS. She wasn’t sure what had happened after that but the Jack that had emerged from the time machine was a completely different person than the one that had entered. Her and the rest of the Torchwood team watched as he walked almost angrily to his room and disappeared within it, not even offering a smile of reassurance, a note about the Doctor or even a “goodnight” before he all but slammed the door to his office shut.

 

Deciding it would be a good idea, Martha walked into the TARDIS to check on the Doctor. Of the two of them he’d been the worst off because he had taken the brunt of the attack both from the sphere and from Jack when he’d helped lessen the Captain’s pain.

 

She received a welcoming hum followed by an inquisitive grind letting her know that the ship was happy that she was there but also curious what was going on. Patting the walls of the TARDIS Martha made her way to the Doctor’s room wanting to check on him before she engaged in full-out conversation with the time machine.

 

Thanks to the TARDIS sensing her desire Martha reached the door to the Time Lord’s bedroom in record time and didn’t hesitate in the slightest when she twisted the knob and quietly entered.

 

The Doctor lay on his bed fully clothed though the sheets had been brought up around him in an effort to tuck him in. His forehead bore wrinkles of discomfort and his eyes were scrunched in pain. His limbs twitched sporadically and every few minutes his entire body would turn and flip.

 

 _Has he been given any pain medication,_ she asked the ship silently. Given his restless state of sleep, Martha didn’t want to chanced waking him up.

 

 ** _No,_** the TARDIS answered though Martha could hear more in the question; for instance why was her Time Lord in pain.

 

She ignored the unspoken question as she headed to the medbay, grabbed Time Lord friendly pain medication the quickly returned back to her friend’s room where she swiftly administered a dose of the medication.

 

**_What happened?_ **

 

Martha sighed. Apparently the TARDIS had gotten tired of waiting and wanted answers now.

 

 _I don’t know exactly,_ she answered truthfully. She’d only caught part of the Doctor’s explanation while she’d been examining him. _There was this sphere with what looked to be Gallifreyan writing on it. He and Jack apparently touched it resulting in an electrical charge to their systems. They both had massive headaches afterwards but the Doctor took the brunt of it by hoping to ease Jack’s. That’s when Jack brought him here._

If the ship could have nodded Martha swore she just did. **_I thought the Captain felt a little different but since he was carrying my Time Lord I didn’t reject him like I’d wished._**

****

Martha didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t respond at all, merely kept watch over the sleeping Doctor. The medication had taken effect and he was now sleeping peacefully. The pain lines on his face had eased some but were still present. She wished she could do something to help ease it totally but the doctor in her knew there wasn’t anything that she could do. His body needed to heal and in order to do that, he just needed to sleep.

 

 _Let me know if he needs anything,_ she requested of the ship before she walked out and back to do her job. Given the way Jack had slammed his door, she didn’t’ think that checking on him would be a good idea so she left him alone. She’d check on him when he woke up.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As it was, both men slept for the next twenty four hours straight. After the first twelve Ianto had gone to make sure that Jack was alright since their leader had rarely slept for more than six hours at a time. He returned moments later announcing that Jack was fine just in what appeared to be a deep coma-like sleep. None of them were exactly surprised to hear that since the Doctor was currently experiencing the same thing but it relieved their minds to know he wasn’t sick.

 

Eight am one day after the accident, Jack woke up and bounded out of his cave with an energy that resembled a manic boy on Christmas day. He joined the Torchwood team for a breakfast meeting where he proceeded to interrupt every time they tried to talk with facts that they didn’t know he knew.

 

Martha sat patiently in the meeting for the first hour but by the second one she was getting antsy. The Doctor should have been up and about by now, if Jack’s energy was anything to go by, but she hadn’t seen nor heard from him.

 

While the team took a short fifteen minute break, Martha decided to scamper away to the TARDIS. She’d hoped to find the Doctor toying boyishly around under the control console but alas there was no sign of him. Her worry increased with that fact alone. She understood if the Doctor didn’t want to go wandering about Torchwood without someone with him even though he wasn’t usually shy, but if he got bored, the Doctor would always start fiddling under the console.

 

She walked through the eerie silence of the ship, paying close attention to the little hints from the ship herself for clues about what was wrong. There was a frantic, suffocating feeling flowing through the ship that disconcerted her, making her rush quicker to the Doctor’s room.

 

Without bothering to knock, she entered and stood in the doorway panting when she found the Time Lord sitting up in his bed with a frown upon his face.

 

“Doctor?” Martha questioned in a way that screamed _What’s wrong?!_

The Doctor looked up, pain in his eyes but a smile on his face. “Martha, hello,” he greeted warmly though she could tell it was forced.

 

“You alright?” Martha stepped out of the doorway, closing the door behind her, and came to his bed where she promptly sat down at a free spot by his legs.

 

“Yes, well, no, well, I don’t know,” he answered cryptically.

 

It wasn’t abnormal for the brilliant alien to be cryptic but right now Martha’s nerves were frayed enough as they were so his answer only served to drive her concern further bordering on paranoia.

 

He drew in a deep breath before looking up at her with nothing but seriousness in his face, “I hurt.”

 

Martha laughed out loud but ceased when she saw the genuine hurt on his face. “Sorry but isn’t that normal when you’ve been sliced open and broken?”

 

“No,” he responded immediately. “Well, yeah but not three days later. I should be healed by now.”

 

“Do you want me to take a look? I’m not an expert on Time Lord physiology but I have traveled with you enough to know when something’s gone wrong.”

 

He nodded slightly and Martha switched her position from by his legs on the bed to a chair that sat just beside the head of the bed. Now that she wasn’t sitting directly across from him she could see just how small he looked, almost like a frightened child and she had to resist the urge not to pull him into her arms then and there.

 

Instead she settled for easing his shirts and tie off. He’d disposed over a day ago with wearing the arm brace for his broken arm but even still she could tell that the mere act of getting undressed was painful for him.

 

She knew, from experience, that his bruises should have been healed by now as well as the stitches in his back and the bones in his arm but the more she examined the more she could tell that he was weeks away from any of that happening.

 

Frowning, Martha pulled out a syringe and empty vial from her pocket. Why she’d been carrying it around she couldn’t remember but now was as good a time as any to use them. “I’m going to take a sample of your blood and analyze it, okay?”

 

Gently pulling his uninjured arm towards her, Martha easily found the vein and stuck the needle in. She drew one vial but was determined to come back if she had to.

 

She stood up to leave but stopped when his voice announced, “I’m coming with you.” She turned around and watched in sympathy as he got out of bed. It was obvious the action was very painful for him but he was determined to come.

 

“If you are then let’s put your arm brace and sling back on. I think your shoulder could use the support and rest.” And with that Martha located both items and expertly attached them, wincing in unison with the Doctor’s pained hisses. “Better?”

 

The Doctor gave a weary nod. He was surprised to find that his arm indeed did feel a lot better when it was in the sling. It still ached horribly but it wasn’t on fire like it had been. “Yeah, thank you.”

 

He held out his other arm in a gentlemanly fashion, “Shall we?”

 

“Let’s shall,” Martha replied with a smile as she slipped her arm carefully through his and started leading the way to the Torchwood lab.

 

As they walked Martha kept stealing glances at her friend, biting her lip each time in a hope to avoid expressing her concern. After five minutes of this routine however, she’d found she couldn’t stop herself and asked, “Do you want some pain medication first?”

 

The Doctor frowned, “Is it that obvious?”

 

“Yeah,” she conceded with a nod. “You were never good at hiding how you were feeling. Just because you or your companions didn’t talk about it didn’t mean we couldn’t see it.”

 

“Very well then, to the medicine cabinet we go!” He began leading them on the way but almost as soon as he began, a door appeared to his right.

 

Martha smiled, “I think the TARDIS was waiting for you to say that.”

 

The Doctor raised an expressive eyebrow but a small smile played with the corner of his lips as he entered the medbay room.

 

After they’d gotten the Doctor some pain relief, the pair walked out of the ship and into the Torchwood lab. They worked diligently comparing his current blood sample to the one that had been taken when he’d first arrived.

 

Martha had done her best to make him sit back and try to rest but the Doctor was having none of it, he kept running around the lab getting her what he could and every once in a while peeking over her shoulder at a sample.

 

At long last she pushed away from the microscope, letting loose a heavy sigh of frustration. She looked at the Doctor with apologetic eyes, “You’re human.”

 

“I’m what?” the Time Lord asked hoping he’d heard wrong.

 

“Well you aren’t fully human yet but your cells have stopped regenerating and your DNA is slowly changing into that of a human’s.”

 

The Doctor stood where he was, dumbfounded. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that he would turn human, thanks to that stupid sphere, but for the most part he’d denied the chance of it, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn’t happen.

 

“Problems?” called a voice that should have sounded friendly. Instead it sounded sly and creepy.

 

The pair looked up and found Jack watching them with hunger in his eyes. He removed himself from his perch against the railing and lanked his way down the stairs. His posture screamed overconfident and arrogance rolled off him like waves off a rock, smashing into them with staggering force.

 

“Jack, how are you feeling?” Martha asked in an attempt to dispel the feeling of discomfort that had filled the air.

 

“I’m good Martha Jones, really good. How about yourself?” Jack took a step towards her, leaving no more than a millimeter between their two bodies. He ran a hand softly down her exposed arm, grabbed her hand and gave it a kiss.

 

Martha, who was too shocked to move, allowed him to pet her, watching him with a look of horror that she didn’t bother to hide from him.

 

Jack turned from Martha and faced the Doctor. “And the Doctor,” he said condescendingly, “how are you today?” He clapped a heavy hand right over the spot that just happened to be where the deepest of the slashes had been. He didn’t even bother trying to look apologetic as he replied, “Oops, sorry. I forgot.”

 

The Doctor bit his lip to keep a cry of pain from escaping his lips. When he thought he could speak in more than a growl he asked, “Jack, are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

 

“Absolutely Doctor.” Jack responded practically spitting the Time Lord’s name out of his mouth. His face wrinkled as if the name left a horrible taste and proceeded to stalk around the room of the lab.

 

He kept walking around them, cocking his head from left to right as if he were studying his prey. “You know,” he began almost absently, “I never did understand how you could mourn a monster like the Master after all that he’d done.”

 

The Doctor’s sharp glare focused on the Captain, his eyes all but pleading his friend to stop while his brain tried to work out what was going on. “Don’t,” he replied darkly.

 

Jack rushed on him like a lioness pouncing on her dinner. He grabbed the Doctor roughly by the throat and squeezed, pushing him against the closest wall, thoroughly enjoying when he felt a couple of the thin alien’s ribs crack under the pressure and heard the whimper of pain that had barely escaped his mouth.

 

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot discuss with you! I went through hell for a year because I chose to stay, for you might I add and you have the gall to act heartbroken when the man who tortured me and threatened daily to rap Tish died.” Jack backhanded the Doctor, smiling at the resounding _thwack._

 

He turned to look at Martha, the hand that strangled the Doctor slowly releasing little by little as he did so, “You didn’t know that did you? Yeah, the Master toyed with your sister like she was a ball of string and he was the cat. Every time she tried to show any defiance he tormented her with unwanted touches and filled her mind with experiences of rape.”

 

A tear trickled down Martha’s cheek but she held her ground. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to run at Jack and try to wrestle him off the injured Time Lord but she knew she was no match for him. “Actually I did. It was one of the reasons why I stayed behind.”

 

She felt almost sadistic when triumph coursed through her veins as she saw Jack’s sneer fall off his face. What the hell was going on? Deciding it was best to work that out before Jack beat the Doctor to death, Martha inched her way over to her work station where a tranquilizer gun innocently lay out of the way.

 

“Aren’t you curious how he,” Jack backhanded the Doctor again, “could mourn a piece of shit like the Master?”

 

“No actually I’m not,” Martha admitted honestly. She’d reached the table and her hand crawled like a spider over to the phone where she pressed the speaker button knowing that the rest of their conversation would be heard by Ianto, Gwen and Tosh. “You see, I actually understood it, even if I didn’t agree.”

 

Jack turned his wrath back on the Doctor, drawing him away and then slamming him back into the wall drawing a pained cry from the Time Lord as the stitches dragged against the rough stone of the wall, tearing at his skin.

 

“Well I don’t understand it,” he bellowed, slamming the Doctor into the wall again. “You see. I knew that you cared about Martha and maybe liked me but I wasn’t aware that you were in love with that maniac.”

 

Disgust covered Jack’s face and he punched the Doctor in the stomach, holding the alien steady and not allowing him to curl into the punch.

 

“I was not in love with him,” the Doctor growled out, grinding his teeth in pain and anger. “But he and I were connected on a level that transcended the normal bonds. I could feel his presence in my mind, I could smell him when he was close and the same went for him.”

 

Another swift backhand was delivered, “Sounds like you were in love with him to me,” Jack announced, rage filling his normally soft blue eyes. “Freak. Do you know what happens to freaks?” He pulled out his gun, the action perfected over several years of use. “They get shot. Now I’m a good shot but I don’t want to kill you until you’ve answered my questions so how about I start somewhere not important, like your leg?”

 

He aimed but before he could get a shot off, four other shots rang out. The Captain’s arm twitched and the muscles in his fingers contracted, firing the weapon in his hand.

 

The Doctor cried out as the bullet hit his lower leg rather than the knee where it was aimed. He grunted when he was dropped unceremoniously onto the ground as Jack collapsed, his body giving in easily to the four tranquilizer darts that had been fired at him.

 

Martha was at the Doctor’s side in an instant, stepping gingerly over the fallen Jack as she crouched next to her injured friend. Instantly her medical skills kicked in and she began examining the bullet wound in his leg.

 

“What the hell’s going on?” Gwen asked, her voice a mixture of anger and shock.

 

“I don’t know but put him in a containment cell until we can figure it out,” Martha commanded while trying to keep her nerves. Skilled hands pushed up the pinstriped pant leg then did their best to open the wound as much as possible so she could look in it while causing as little pain as possible to the patient. “It’s too bad this wasn’t another inch to the left, it would have just grazed you.”

 

Her fingers trailed to the other side of his leg, checking for an exit wound. She grimaced when she found one but accidentally ended up sticking her finger in the wound earning a pathetic whimper from the Doctor.

 

She took off her white lab coat, folded it then placed in on the floor before she put the Doctor’s injured leg on top of it. Moving from her position at his feet to his left side where she proceeded to check his torso for damage. Once she was sure that he had a few cracked ribs and many bruises she moved on to his head.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked medically as she flashed a penlight into the pained honey-brown eyes. The pupils were reactive which meant he didn’t have a concussion though, if the way he tried to shield his eyes from her light was any indication, he did have one hell of a headache.

 

A deep grimace covered his face, “I’ve been better.”

 

“I bet,” Martha conceded with a small smile as she turned around to see who was left. “Tosh could you grab a dose of Tylenol 3 for me?”

 

Tosh nodded almost nervously. Her mind was still trying to decipher what had happened. She, Gwen and Ianto had been sitting around the tea station talking about a new pizza place that had opened when they heard Martha and Jack’s voices over the phone system.

 

Their first instinct was to shut it of but something in their guts told them to keep it open – Martha wasn’t one to activate the phone system for nothing. They’d looked at one another confused but the more they listened the sooner they realized that something wasn’t right – Jack was actually beating the Doctor!

 

She located the correct pain medication then handed the dose to Martha who held out an anxiously waiting hand.

 

“This will help dull the pain while I get you patched up,” Martha informed the Doctor whose jaw was working overtime in an effort to refrain from groaning in pain. She injected him quickly then waited until he’d visibly relaxed before she began to clean and stitch the bullet wound.

 

She remained quiet as she cleaned and patched her friend up. The only words she spoke were instructions for Tosh or information on what she was doing for the Doctor who seemed to be half out of it. Every once in awhile she would shake her head in an attempt to dispel the one thought that kept crossing her mind but it was to no avail.

 

Martha knew that they would need to get the Doctor onto the recovery bed in the lab, or even better his own bed on the TARDIS but she didn’t know how to do it without hurting him.

 

The stitches on his back had reopened thanks to Jack constantly ramming him into the wall and his arm was still broken, though thanks to his previous attempts at healing nowhere near as bad as it was when he’d arrived. Those two facts alone meant that he wouldn’t be able to use crutches to get around not to mention the cracked ribs would make it darn uncomfortable for him to do so.

 

However the new stitching in his lower leg meant that he wouldn’t be allowed to put weight on that leg until they’d healed not to mention the damaged muscle being held together with the stitches.

 

As she re-fastened the arm brace and re-stitched the Doctor’s back, Martha’s same thought crossed her mind. _I wish Jack were here._

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Captain Jack Harkness awoke groggy with a pounding headache. He rolled over hoping to be able to sleep off whatever hangover he’d given himself only to fall off the stone bench that he’d been placed on. He landed with an “oof” then waited for his mind to clear marginally so he could try to determine where he was.

 

His eyes opened but his first sight was pure blur. After blinking several times, he tried again this time managing to focus on his surroundings.

 

Stone walls rose on either side of him with only the Plexiglas door in front of him for a change of venue. _The Holding Cells,_ his mind supplied quickly making him jolt upright in confusion and annoyance.

 

Unfortunately while his mind had adjusted to the after affects of what he assumed was a tranquilizer dart, his body had not and he swayed dangerously, falling into the closest stone wall.

 

“Take it easy, you got hit with not one but four tranquilizer darts,” a soft, semi-scratchy voice instructed.

 

Jack’s head snapped up to find Martha Jones standing in front of his door, her posture rigid and radiating anger. Had he done something?

 

Flashes of a Jack he didn’t know walking down into the medlab, toying with Martha, hating the Doctor and stalking them both appeared before his eyes making him shake his head in hopes to dispel the pictures. More images came across his eyes making his stomach roll acidly.

 

Images of him hitting the Doctor over and over and over again, not caring and actually enjoying the sounds of pain that came from his friend appeared before his eyes. Jack could feel the anger and hurt he’d felt then. It had coursed through his veins like he needed it to live instead of blood.

 

He watched with blank eyes as his mind replayed a fractured scene where he tormented, punched and pushed the Doctor until his face bore a bruise in the shape of his fist and his neck shone brightly with his hand print.  

 

Horror crossed his face and tears fell down his eyes as he threatened to torture the Doctor until he had answers to questions he didn’t know. Acid churned in his stomach, crawling up his esophagus and jumping into his mouth as he heard himself call the Time Lord a freak then promise to kill him.

 

He flinched like he’d been hit when he heard the sound of a gun go off immediately followed by the all too familiar sound of his friend crying out in pain.

 

One look at Martha told him what his mind refused to believe – he, Captain Jack Harkness, had just beaten and damn near tortured his best friend.

 

“Th-the Doctor?” he croaked out, bring his hand up to wipe away the tears that he had no right to shed.

 

“He’ll be alright though his recovery will take awhile.” Martha waited for his affirming head nod, her eyes softening slightly at the picture of misery before her. “What happened?”

 

The pure hurt and anger in her voice surprised him but only momentarily as his mind supplied him the dialogue he and her had shared. “I don’t know. I woke up this morning feeling fine, better than fine actually.”

 

Martha nodded dismally though fury still flowed freely off her.

 

“Martha, I’m so sorry,” Jack apologized wholeheartedly though he knew it wouldn’t really matter. “I honestly don’t know what happened. One minute I was sitting around with Gwen and the others and the next I had this almost feral desire to join you and the Doctor.”

 

Martha remained quiet, studying the man before her with new eyes. “He wants to talk to you,” she informed allowing her tone to say just ho bad of an idea she thought that was. “However it means we’d have to let you out since he wouldn’t be able to make it down here.”

 

“And you don’t want to do that,” Jack supplied lowering himself onto his bench.

 

“No I don’t. But the Doctor wants to speak to you and sad as it may be, I can’t seem to deny him something no mater what it is.” Martha began pacing outside the cell. Her agitation and confusion were written plainly over her face.

 

“How long have I been out?” Jack asked wondering how his friend was well enough to be asking to see him.

 

“About two days. Apparently four tranq darts are a surefire way to make sure the recipient doesn’t move for the next 48 hours.” Her cold tone would have frozen the sun. “What the hell were you thinking Jack?!” she burst out, unable to hold it in anymore.

 

“I don’t know,” Jack answered pathetically, tears streaming down his cheeks. He would have sold his soul for an answer to the mystery that just happened but unfortunately the devil wasn’t available when you actually needed him.

 

“Right, well I’m going to go get Gwen and Ianto. We’re going to take you to see the Doctor but not without assurance that you won’t do anything.” She walked away before Jack had a chance to reply. If she’d been a cartoon there would have been puffs of smoke swirling behind her as she all but ran up to grab the others.

 

Jack sat on his bench miserable and horrified. Without realizing what he was doing he tried to reach out to the Doctor with his mind wanting nothing more than to know that the Time Lord was okay.

 

He cried out in pain and fell onto the floor as blinding pain seared through his skull along with a message from the TARDIS – **_Stay away!_** He didn’t need the ship to say the rest, he knew from the force of her response that if Jack were to try to even enter her, he would be placed in a force-field cell and tortured by her.

 

Ianto, Gwen and Martha returned shortly after his failed attempt, all carrying dart guns. Martha aimed hers at him while Ianto opened the door and approached, a set of handcuffs in his hands.

 

“I’m sorry,” the Welshman apologized before placing the cuffs over his wrists. He looked briefly at all three of them then looked away as his heart began to slowly break.

 

All three of them held eyes as hard as stone when they actually addressed them but when they didn’t think he was looking, Jack could see the anguish reflecting in each of their beautiful eyes.

 

He cleared his throat hoping to stall any more tears from falling as he walked towards the medlab recovery bed. It killed him to know that he’d put his friends in this position but he also knew it was necessary; there was no way he wanted to repeat this nightmare again.

 

His breathing began to speed up the closer he got and by the time he actually arrived at the doorway, his was seconds from a panic attack. Wheezing could be heard echoing throughout the hub and it wasn’t until Martha placed a comforting hand on his arm that he realized it was the sound of his ragged breathing.

 

As if he was on wheels, Jack spun around to face a surprised but encouraging Martha. Tears once again flowed freely from his eyes but he paid them no attention as he gasped out, “Is….he…mad?”

 

The hardness in her chocolate eyes softened to a melted milk chocolate. “No,” she answered simply, “he’s concerned.”

 

Jack’s knees gave way at that moment and if it wasn’t for Ianto he would have fallen into a bone-less lump on the floor. “I don’t think I can see him,” he panted frantically. “When I woke up that was all I wanted but now that I’m actually here, I don’t think I can do it.”

 

“Breathe Jack,” Martha instructed as she knelt next to him. “Focus on Ianto’s steady breathing, follow the rhythm. I can’t say that I’m upset to see you like this because frankly it helps ease my mind to see you this distraught but right now you need to stop thinking about yourself. We’ve had to threaten the Doctor with sedation just to keep him still. From the moment he woke up, all he’s wanted to do was inspect the sphere and talk to you and only the promise that we’d bring you to see him has kept him relatively still. Well, that and the extreme pain that stabs him when he moves.”

 

Jack’s unfocused gaze sharpened on her at her last admission and his slowly calming breathing started to race again. “Extreme pain,” she’d said. He’d caused that pain, he’d enjoyed that pain.

 

“You’ll shoot me if I start acting odd?” he asked though his eyes begged.

 

Martha held up her gun, her actual gun, and smiled, “I’ll even use real bullets if you like.”

 

Encouraged by the small joke, Jack smiled. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to happen then stood up. “Let’s do this.”

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor lay on the recovery bed in the medlab, listening to the activity above him. He heard the shuffling of feet and the rattle of tranquilizer guns indicating Jack and company were coming. Through the haze of pain medication his curiosity peaked when he heard Jack stop at the doorway. When wheezing reached his ears his heart ached for his friend who was more than likely having a panic attack.

 

He drowned out the chatter from above and allowed his mind to roam over the events of a couple days ago. He’d known something was wrong the moment Jack had drawn attention to himself once they’d discovered his “malady” but he didn’t know just how wrong things were.

 

Brilliant though he was, the Doctor didn’t make the connection of the conscience in the sphere to danger or Jack’s behavior until the Captain had practically snarled the word “freak” then things clicked into place.

 

The shuffling continued and the Doctor shifted his other worldly gaze to where Jack walked down the stairs in handcuffs with Martha pointing a gun at his back. He raised the head of his bead, grimacing as pain seared through his side like a red-hot poker.

 

“Doctor, you okay? Do you need more pain medication?” Martha queried concerned.

 

The Doctor held out a stilling hand, trying not to focus on the heartbreaking look of sadness on Jack’s face as he looked at Martha. “No I’m alright for right now but, are the handcuffs and guns necessary? He’s not a criminal.”

 

His voice was gruff and hoarse thanks to his badly bruised vocal cords and a permanent wince glued itself to his face whenever he talked. The imprinted bruise of Jack’s hand stuck out on the Doctor’s white neck like blood red on white china, making Jack wince at the sight. How could he have done that to his friend??

 

“I don’t know about that,” Jack mumbled standing frozen in the middle of the room. “I think beating one’s friend to a pulp and torturing him is considered a crime somewhere in the universe.”

 

“Maybe on Conjuctor but they have laws against crossing your own property lines with a mhanta on your shoulder; it’s a very weird planet really; it’s not a place I want to visit again. Weell,” he drew out, “maybe if I could get away with never being seen; the planet was really beautiful.”

 

He stopped to draw in a painful, ragged breath, one that made Jack’s heart ache and the Doctor grimace, then all energy seemed to fade from the wounded alien and he seemed to melt into the bed, his face lax from exhaustion.

 

“I think that’s enough for now,” Martha interjected softly, stepping between the two men and coming to stand right beside the Doctor’s bedside. She withdrew a glass syringe and injected it quickly into the Doctor’s IV line, watching patiently until he fell into a drugged sleep and the pain lines that covered his smooth face, evened out.

 

Jack stood off to the side watching as Martha took care of their friend. So many thoughts ran through his mind; so many confusing, conflicting thoughts that Jack didn’t know which ones were his and which ones weren’t. They all felt like his and that fact scared him, worried him, but also made sense to him.

 

Pounding started in his head. It had been so soft at first that Jack hadn’t noticed it but with the quiet of the Hub blanketing him, almost oppressively, it had increased tenfold and was so loud that he swore everyone else could hear it, feel it, as well.

 

Martha was in front of him, saying something but for the extreme pounding in his head, Jack couldn’t hear it. All he heard was the blood surging through his brain, beating in alternate time with his heart. At first he thought he’d recognized the rhythm but the pain was beginning to grow and he couldn’t focus.

 

A hand covered his shoulder and shook him. “Jack,” Martha’s voice called out to him questioningly.

 

“Hm, yeah?” he answered, trying to dispel the foggy pain that befuddled his brain. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

 

Martha regarded him both warily and concernedly, “The Doctor’s going to be out for a while. You should go back to your cell; I’ll let you know when he’s ready to see you again.”

 

Jack looked around, surprised to find Gwen, Ianto and Tosh surrounding him with dart guns in their hands. Where had they come from? He looked around more, trying to decide what it was he was supposed to do. Somehow his brain wasn’t translating the instructions Martha had given him to the rest of his body. In fact it seemed to be telling him to do something completely different – Conquer.

 

However with his hands bound, there wasn’t going to be any conquering done anytime soon and that frustrated and angered him. These people, these useless, pointless beings didn’t deserve this planet – he did. How dare they try to claim it for themselves!

 

“Jack?” Gwen’s voice called followed by an insistent nudge in his middle back by the barrel of a dart gun.

 

Deciding it was best to follow along with the stupid excuse for beings’ rules, Jack started, regretfully, moving his feet, heading down towards the holding cells. His brain scorched with fire and a voice in the back of his mind screamed to let him out. The constant pounding of the mental barrier he’d put up was straining his already strained head and the pounding wrenched up to a migraine.

 

The Plexiglas cell door slammed behind him and Jack found himself passing out where he stood. The screaming voice quieted as the blackness surrounded him. Before the dark completely blanketed him, Jack heard a familiar voice laughing maniacally and the all too recognizable sound of a four-beat drum sounded in the gloom.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

 _Doctor,_ a voice called throughout the haze of dreams. _Doctor,_ it called again when it didn’t receive a response. _Wakey, wakey Doctor,_ the Doctor felt a mental slap and woke with a start.

 

He grimaced as throbbing pain toyed idly with his side, arm and leg. It had been a month since the sphere had turned him human and his injuries were healing quickly. He was able to get around easier and without help from an aide or person. Granted he limped whenever he put weight on his injured leg and more often than not his left arm could be found both guarding his side and massaging his previously broken arm but at least he was able to move about.

 

Time passing was both a curse and a blessing for the members of Torchwood. With each passing day the Doctor grew stronger, healthier and was able to help around the Hub more but Jack’s status, mental and physical, was diminishing rapidly. There were moments where the real Jack could be seen through the Plexiglas door and minutes of lucidity were considered a blessing and a miracle by the group but the longer time passed, the more the other personality came out.

 

Martha and the Doctor both knew who it was that possessed Jack and it scared them to think what could happen if the consciousness took complete hold of Jack’s immortal body – he would be unstoppable save permanent imprisonment and that was something the Doctor was growing to realize he might actually have to do unless they figured out how to reverse the process.

 

Currently the Time Lord sat in the archives section of the Hub’s basement, toying with the sphere and puzzling through his addled brain to find the solution. He’d fallen asleep trying to solve the mystery of the unreadable object but a voice seemed to think he needed to be awake.

 

He continued to toss the ball between his hands, trying to force his mind to translate the hieroglyphs but when it didn’t work his frustration mounted to unbearable levels and the Doctor found he needed to vent it before it consumed him totally.

 

The table on which he’d been working shook violently and a precise crack appeared where the Doctor’s fist had connected with the wood. Splinters stuck out from the edge of his pinky finger and a bruise was slowly starting to form across his knuckles.

 

“It’s about time that table got what it deserved. I can’t count how many times it has sat there staring at me,” Gwen’s voice softly chided from the doorway.

 

The Doctor looked up cradling his injured hand in the other and gave a tired smile. “Sorry about that,” he apologized while looking down at the damaged wood. “I would say I’ll replace it but I don’t have any money. How do you get money exactly, how does the system work?”

 

Gwen walked further into the room, a smile on her face and her arms across her chest. She wore a tight pair of blue jeans that outlined her beautiful figure, a white boyfriend tee with the faded picture of a rock star that the Doctor had never heard of, and a pair of boots that looked to be a cross between standard issue military boots and ladies’ knee high boots that he’d often seen Martha wear when she was going out with her family.

 

A slight smile played upon her lips, lighting her blue eyes and making her face look a hundred times younger. The lines of worry that had begun to multiply over the past few weeks had smoothed out marginally and the Doctor understood why her husband Rhys had fallen completely in love with her.

 

“You know, I get the feeling that you don’t actually want or need me to explain economics to you,” she answered coyly coming to stand in front of the splintered table. Her hand played idly with the crack and her thoughts traveled to the only other man she had ever loved, going slowly, painfully crazy while at the same time becoming a complete stranger right before her eyes. A tear tracked down her cheek and fell upon the table, splattering it like a raindrop falling upon a leaf.

 

The Doctor’s bruised hand covered her shaking one, stilling her movement while offering silent support. “I will solve this, I promise,” the Time Lord swore and Gwen knew he meant it.

 

She cleared her throat in an effort to clear the emotions that swirled dangerously within her, “Any luck?”

 

“Not so far actually, no. Thankfully the sphere hasn’t compromised my knowledge of the universe but it has stolen the one thing that could help us – my Galifreyan heritage.”

 

The Doctor’s tone slowly changed from annoyed and far away to angry, close to furious. He looked at the sphere with such hatred that Gwen was sure if he had Superman’s heat vision, the cylindrical object would have been cremated on the spot.

 

He dragged a heavy hand up to his temples where he began to massage the furiously pounding headache that had been slowly building from the moment he’d started to study the sphere.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

“Me? Fine, just a small headache; it’s been happening a lot more lately,” the Doctor dismissed absently. He circled the sphere, stalking it, challenging it.

 

Sadistic, maniacal laughter filled his head, taunting him, using his already present headache to torment him.

 

 _Oh lookie here the famous, impervious Doctor is in pain, injurable,_ the voice of the consciousness teased. The Doctor groaned as his headache increased, blinding him with pain.

 

“Doctor?” Gwen inquired, coming up to the man who was now bent over in pain and crumbling quickly. “Doctor what’s wrong?”

 

The Doctor barely heard her as the blood blew angrily through his brain like a stormy wind tearing apart an already decimated town, drowning out every sound but the static voice that continued to tease, taunt, and torment him.

 

Just as Gwen finished lowering the Doctor into the nearest chair, her phone rang. She pulled the currently annoying contraption out of her pocket and debated ignoring it when she saw Ianto’s name popped up on the screen. “Yeah,” she answered snappily.

 

“Gwen, are you with the Doctor?”

 

Gwen stopped the fussing she was currently doing over the man who meant so much to her other love. Ianto’s voice was shaking as though he were trying to keep restraints on his emotions – Something was wrong.

 

“Yes, why? What’s wrong?”

 

Ianto paused momentarily, making Gwen’s worry increase, “There’s something wrong with Jack. He’s-he’s non-responsive to anything, his eyes are white, like they are rolled in the back of his head, and he’s as rigid as a dead body. Is the Doctor in the same state?”

 

Gwen looked down and shook her head, “No, no he’s,” she cut off, licking her lips and perusing over the pained man’s body, “he’s hunched over and grabbing his head like he’s in pain.”

 

The sound of liquid dripping steadily onto the broken table echoed throughout the hollow, cold basement room causing Gwen to turn her attention from the Doctor to the red-orange splatter on the pale wood table and stare at it.

 

Horror filled her beautiful face widening her eyes and spreading her mouth open wide. She reached out a hand towards the liquid and touched her two first fingers lightly upon it. Spreading it experimentally across the tips of the rest of her fingers, Gwen inspected the strange substance.

 

It felt thick, almost like syrup but it was the color apricot-strawberry marmalade. She smelled it then recoiled in confusion when the scent of pencils filled her sense. Pencils, why pencils? What was in pencils that stuck out so keenly? Lead! Wait, lead? Why was she smelling lead in this liquid?

 

Her blue eyes snapped up to the Doctor’s face. His hands cradled his head in between them but still afforded her a view of his young face. The examining, curious look that had came upon her face was soon replaced once again by horror.

 

Blood, well what she assumed was blood, dripped freely down from the Doctor’s nose, spilling over his top lip and falling harmlessly onto the wooden surface closest beneath his face.

 

“Doctor, what’s wrong?” she asked kneeling in front of the Time Lord’s chair.

 

“Gwen what’s going on?” Ianto’s voice asked, radiating the fear that Gwen felt.

 

“The Doctor’s nose is bleeding,” she explained shakily.

 

“And?”

 

“And it’s one of those nose bleeds that you see when someone’s brain is being taxed beyond the body’s endurance,” she snapped angrily into the phone as she searched for something to stem the flow. “How long has Jack been like that?”

 

“Uh, about ten minutes, why?”

 

“Ianto you’ve got to try to wake Jack up. Whatever he’s doing, it’s affecting the Doctor and it’s not in a good way,” Gwen ordered grabbing another tissue.

 

“Gwen I’ve tried, nothing’s working.”

 

“Then get Martha down there and sedate him. If his brain’s off-line then maybe his assault on the Doctor will stop.” She heard him growl out his jealousy but follow her orders with the click of the dial tone. “Hang on, it’ll be over soon,” she soothed, placing a comforting hand on the Time Lord’s back and rubbing small circles. “Just hang on.”

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

The Doctor woke to a horribly pounding headache and blinding light above him. “Oh my head,” he grumbled as he raised his hand to his aching head.

 

“It’s a good thing we stopped Jack when we did. If we hadn’t you would be in a coma or, more than likely, dead.” Martha walked up to the right side of his bed and looked down on him with sympathy in her eyes.

 

The Time Lord closed his eyes and leaned into the soft pillow beneath his head. “How is he?”

 

“There was a few minutes of lucidity where he apologized and asked if you were alright but eventually He emerged again and we had to put him back under for everyone’s safety.”

 

He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the pain he was about to cause himself. Stiffly, the Doctor sat up from the bed, groaning and holding his head in his hands. “Oh, yeah, that was a bad idea.”

 

“Yep,” Martha agreed as she stood next to his bed, “you should lay back down. You need to rest.”

 

The Doctor patted her hand almost condescendingly, “I’ll be alright. I need to see Jack.”

 

“No, absolutely not-“

 

“-Martha, Jack is the only one who can help solve this.”

 

“And what makes you think He will help us? For all we know He doesn’t want to leave, for all we know He was the one that got us all into this.”

 

“I don’t know!” The Doctor eased himself off the bed, swaying slightly, then started heading down to the holding cells. “Right now, I’m out of ideas.”

 

Martha stared at her friend in shock. In all of her time traveling with the Doctor she had never thought she’d hear him say that. In fact she hadn’t ever heard him say that and it worried her to hear him say it with such hopelessness in his voice.

 

Silently she followed him through the cold halls of the Hub and down to where Jack was being held. She did her best to ignore the signs of pain her patient and friend was showing as he slowly, for him, walked down to “the dungeon”. The doctor in her wanted nothing more than to usher him back into his bed where she knew he should be but the part of her that was Jack’s friend was desperate to have her friend back and have the madness end so she merely followed hi in hopes that things would be over soon.

 

“Ah Doctor. You heard my call I take it?” ‘Jack’ greeted too cheerily for their comfort.

                                                                                                             

The Doctor jutted out his chin, his defiance only making ‘Jack’ chuckle. “What do you want?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” ‘Jack’ asked like it should have been obvious. He stood up, stalking towards the Plexiglas door and looking like a man who didn’t have a care in the world. “You. Preferably on a silver platter, in chains and in my “employ” for eternity.” He waited, letting the magnitude of his words sink in, “and in exchange, I’ll release this freak and may even let this world get by unscathed; relatively.”

 

The Doctor remained silent, observing the creature parading around as his friend with a cold, calculated study that he only reserved for those that threatened him. After a few more minutes of study he finally answered, “Sounds brilliant!”

 

“What? No, Doctor you can’t!” Martha objected automatically.

 

The Doctor, not listening to Martha’s protests, walked back up towards the center of the Hub, heading straight for the place where Torchwood kept its alien archive of technology. He walked right in, searching through all the artifacts until he found exactly what he wanted.

 

“What is that?” Martha asked curiosity coloring her tone. When she didn’t receive a response she asked again, “Doctor, what is that?”

 

“A Bachlapachta,” the Doctor answered, turning the device over in his hands, inspecting it for damage and functionality.

 

“A what?”

 

“It’s a translation device of sorts. Attach the two leads,” he held up two plugs that looked like the were speakers to a computer, “to two separate individuals and it shows you what’s being done and said in their heads. It was used by the Shiti for interrogation purposes.”

 

He spun around to face her, giving her his most seriously look, “I’m going to sedate Jack and myself. Once that takes hold, attach this to us. You might see something we miss, something vital to getting us out of this nightmare. You’ll need to monitor our health so it would probably be best to move us from the cell to the medlab. Restrain us to the beds if that makes you lot feel safer but it is necessary. This device reads and projects the thoughts by sending shocks to our brains ever fifteen seconds; there’s only so much a human brain can take so if this goes longer than an hour, cut it off.”

 

Martha absently nodded her head in understanding, her brain slowly trying to work through what he’d just said as he sprinted into the medlab to grab two doses of the sedative then headed straight down to the cells.

 

‘Jack’ stood in the cell leaning casually against the wall, waiting for the Doctor to return. “Well Doctor,” he paused to add a mischievous grin, “are you ready to become mine?”

 

“You know me, I’m always a fan of mind melding,” the Doctor retorted as he nodded for Martha to open the cell. He stepped forward, slinking towards the predator with the demeanor of the prey.

 

‘Jack’ grabbed him roughly by the lapels and threw him against the wall. His respiratory bypass system kicked in when the air was stolen out of his lungs but he wasn’t prepared for the Captain to rush him, pinning him to the wall as he leaned in to whisper in the Doctor’s ear.

 

Before he had a chance to say anything however a sickening squish could be heard as the Time Lord plunged the syringe full of sedative into Jack’s neck. As soon as the Captain grunted and fell to the ground in a great heap, the Doctor plunged his own dose of sedative into his veins.

 

He gave one last look at Martha hoping that he showed his complete faith in her before he collapsed onto the ground right on top of Jack.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Martha, Ianto, Gwen and Tosh stood around in the med lab, dart guns trained on the men that lay strapped to the medibeds. Martha had attached the brain translator to both men and now she stood off to the side, dart gun on the table beside her and her eyes trained on the monitors that recorded the two’s vital signs.

 

She didn’t know how to turn the device on and hoped that it would just activate on its own. Sure enough before long a screen, like that of a projector screen, popped up showing them a white room with three men standing in it.

 

Two of the men stood opposite one another. On their wrists the group could see manacle hand cuffs that were attached by a short, thick 2-link chain where a longer, thinner chain trailed from, looping down under a very thick, metal bar that was buried into the concrete floor beneath their feet. It was optimal for chaining a person, imprisoning them, while allowing them to move at the same time.

 

Both men were easily identifiable. They were half naked but the broad chest of Jack was unmistakable as was the brown pinstripe pants that covered the skinny legs of the other man – the Doctor.

 

In the middle of them stood a man of medium build in a black suit with white shirt and red tie. His blonde, well groomed hair lay flat against his white head. His hands were folded patiently in front of him as though he were waiting for his “guests” to get comfortable.

 

“Welcome gentlemen, I’m so glad you could join me here today,” he greeted smiling chillingly.

 

“Hey Doc thanks for joining the party,” Jack greeted his friend, straining slightly against the cuffs that held him.

 

“Well,” the Doctor answered drawing out the word in his normal fashion, “you know me; always a blast at parties.” He winked and offered the other man a winning smile that he often gave his friends.

 

“How sweet. The freak and the murderer together again.”

 

“What do you want?” the Doctor snapped, annoyed at the way his friend was being treated.

 

“’What do you want’ what?”

 

“What do you want, Master?” the Doctor ground out refraining from snarling. Though this was all in their heads it didn’t mean that things couldn’t happen to their physical bodies.

 

The Master shivered in pleasure as his name rolled out of the Doctor’s mouth. “I love the way you say my name,” he purred, stepping closer to the man who he longed to do more than torture. He reached a hand out to drag it longingly down the Time Lord’s face but quickly changed tactic when said Time Lord withdrew in disgust.

 

The sound of skin and bone slapping against skin and bone sounded loudly through the empty room and the Doctor’s head snapped to the side as the Master backhanded him hard.

 

“He likes to do that,” Jack quipped dryly. The Doctor looked at him and he could see guilt and apology come into those beautiful honey-brown eyes. No doubt it was the first time he noticed the bruising that covered the Captain’s face.

 

The Master chuckled like a child with a new toy. “You are right freak, I do like to do that.” And with that he hauled off and backhanded the Doctor again, twice as hard as the first time.

 

The Doctor groaned as he felt his cheek bone crack and he heard Jack call his name. His head was grabbed roughly in an iron grip and he was forced to face the Master’s sneer.

 

“But do you know the one thing that I love doing the most?” As a form of answer he pulled out a gun from his hip holster and aimed it at Jack. Without giving time for thought, he fired.

 

The bullet entered Jack’s left breast muscle, tearing through it and entering the thick muscles of the heart, tearing apart the aortic valve and severing the pulmonary artery before exiting through the left scapula and shattering it.

 

Both chained men screamed in agony. Jack’s cries were quickly silenced as his life-blood drained quickly from the bullet hole, and he died less than a minute later. The Doctor’s cries however echoed throughout the room for a full two minutes before they were reduced to whimpers and moans.

 

Jack came back to life with a loud gasp just as the Doctor’s cries turned into whimpers. Once the fogginess of death cleared he looked at the Doctor in concern, his eyes noticing the way his friend was favoring his left arm. “Doc, what’s wrong?”

 

The Master cocked his head to look at Jack, amusement in his eyes. “He didn’t tell you did he?” he taunted sadistically and giggling like a mad man, “Oh this is just too good to be true!”

 

He clapped his hands excitedly, thoroughly enjoying what was to come. Bounding over to the Doctor, the Master hopped on one foot and slammed it hard into the injured Time Lord’s stomach. “Let’s tell the freak, shall we?”

 

“No, don’t,” the Doctor objected gruffly through the agony that coursed through his left side.

 

“Why not? Don’t you think he deserves to know?” the Master pouted magnificently.

 

“What? Tell me what, Doctor what’s going on?!” Jack demanded angrily. He didn’t like that there was something the Master knew that he didn’t.

 

The Master bounded up to Jack, grabbing the Captain’s face and using it to haul him to his feet. “When dear old, sweet, sexy Rose brought you back from the dead, it linked you to the Doctor in ways that she never meant.” He paused for a giggle. “You see-“

 

“-don’t, please,” the Doctor interrupted with a beg.

 

“-when you die,” he patted Jack on the face, “the dear old Doctor here feels it. The severity of it depends on how close you two are but he does feel it. Since you boys were in the same room, he felt the full extent of it without the permanent affects that is.”

 

Jack threw a frantic glance at the man who was currently hunched over cradling his left arm. “Shouldn’t he be fine by now?” he asked unable to hide the fear and concern in his voice.

 

“Ah you see that’s the great part, he doesn’t heal automatically like you do!” Another excited giggle escaped through his broad smile, “Isn’t that fantastic? I can torture the both of you with only actually touching one of you.”

 

He bounced over to where the Doctor sat on his knees unable to look at Jack. He used his booted foot to gently push against the Time Lord’s broken shoulder blade drawing a strained cry through barely opened lips.

 

“Stop!” Jack demanded pulling hard on the chains that bound him to the floor. The iron cut into his flesh, cutting deep lines into his wrists and spilling blood down his hands. “Don’t touch him!”

 

The Master’s happy gaze focused on the immortal and Jack saw his blue eyes slit like a hawk’s. He slinked his way over to the Captain, threat pouring off him. “Would you rather I touched you instead?”

 

He placed a well aimed punch on the back of Jack’s left shoulder and the Doctor screamed through clench teeth again.

 

Giggling, the Master stepped back from both men and looked, excitedly, elatedly, from one prisoner to the other. “Oh this is going to be so much fun!”

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Semi-graphic mentions of torture ahead. It’s not that bad in my opinion but it may not be suitable for those that are sensitive to it.

As if their subconscious knew what the Master wanted, a polished table of torture instruments appeared by his side. Most of them appeared to be standard knives each varying in different lengths and widths; some were serrated edged some were flat but all of them were undoubtedly sharp. Beside the knives sat a blowtorch and a Phillips screwdriver and beside those lay a worn whip with several strands of tough, braided leather at the end.

 

“Which one to use first,” the Master pondered gleefully as he strode back and forth before the table. His hands clapped together and his fingers danced across one another like he was merrily playing a piano.

 

He stopped beside the whip, picked it up and looked at the two men with furrowed eyebrows. His head cocked from one side to the other as he studied the lower beings before him. “No,” he finally announced to the room, “I think I’ll start off small.” He grabbed a knife with a medium, wide blade that glistened in the brightness of the room.

 

“Let’s see how much pain dear Jack has to endure before you feel is shall we?” the Master taunted the Doctor with a malicious glint in his eyes as he walked up to the chained Captain. He paused for a moment to stare at Jack thoughtfully then, quick as lighting, he plunged the knife into the flesh, muscle and bone of his right bicep.

 

Jack clenched his teeth in an effort to not cry out, very loudly, in pain as the knife sliced open his arm, slowly tearing through all his layers of skin and the thick, fibrous muscle beneath. White-hot agony  pierced his flesh as the instrument was pulled, very, very slowly, back out of his arm, taking a piece of his humerus with it.

 

The Master performed this experiment with the happiest of smiles on his face. It soon faded when he turned to look at the Doctor, hoping he’d managed to hurt the other Time Lord as well but found that skinny alien was sitting in the same, guarded position as before.

 

Unbeknownst to the Master, the Doctor had actually felt a twinge in his right arm when he’d stabbed Jack but it was barely noticeable under the searing pain the continued to attack his left shoulder blade so he saw no need to acknowledge it.

 

The sadistically evil Time Lord took a step away from Jack, giving the Doctor an appraising look before he carelessly dropped the bloodied knife back onto the table, changing it out for a knife that closely resembled a very short sword. Its blade was small, long and very pointy while the hilt was broad and circular, though without the decoration that you usually would find on a sword.

 

By the time he’d returned, Jack’s previous knife wound was already healed, the thin line of dried blood the only evidence of it. The Master circled Jack several times, his eyes trying to decide what would be the best, most fun, place to stick this without providing too much of a shock to the freak’s system – after all he wanted to injure him, severely if possible, not kill him.

 

When his eyes traveled over the bare sole of Jack’s foot, his heart cried out with elated glee – it wanted to stab there! The human foot (and Time Lords as well for that matter) was one of the most sensitive places on the pathetic excuse for a body, with the exception of the genitals of course, making the Captain’s exposed foot the perfect place.

 

The Master gave the Doctor an excited, almost wild look then plunged the short sword into Jack’s foot.

 

Jack and the Doctor cried out in agony as fiery pain pierced the soft, sensitive skin of their feet. It continued to slowly burn through the layers of epidermis, dermis, subcutaneous tissue, muscle, and bone, ending only once the blade had been successfully pushed through the top of the foot.

 

Deciding it was simply more fun to leave the blade where it was, the Master walked away to observe the Doctor’s body’s reaction. His left arm curved around in front of him, his hand acting like a clipboard while his right hand became poised as if holding an invisible pen.

 

“Subject seems to experience every pain that is inflicted on the freak,” he began dictating as he fake-wrote. ”Subject’s right foot is bleeding profusely; the spot around where the wound would be is red and inflamed, swollen possibly, and the bones of the foot are obviously broken in more than one place.”

 

He clapped his hands together and walked back over to where Jack was currently pinned to the concrete floor. He circled the injured immortal a few times, giving the Doctor thoughtful looks each time he walked around behind Jack, then, without warning, yanked the short sword out of the foot.

 

Shivers of pleasure ran through him when he heard both of the prisoners’ pained cries as he walked over to the table and placed the sword next to the used knife then stood there while he tried to figure out which one to use next.

 

“Doc,” Jack called hoarsely doing his best to get as close as he could to his friend. The look of agony in the beautiful brown eyes made his heart break.

 

“Jack,” the Doctor answered, his breaths coming out in quick pants as he tried to control the pain coursing through his veins, “you okay?”

 

The ridiculousness of the question actually made Jack laugh out loud, “Yeah Doc I’m fine. How are you doin?” They both knew that asking the Time Lord if he was alright would be a waste of time because they both knew full well that he wasn’t.

 

“I’ve been better,” the Doctor admitted. As his blood pressure rose, images and words kept flashing in front of his eyes in time with his heartbeats. He didn’t know if it was the TARDIS translating them for him or if they were actually arriving in English but he was actually able to discern what they said.

 

“Are we all comforted now?” the Master teased, interrupting the Doctor’s forthcoming explanation to Jack. The whistling of gas drew both imprisoned men’s attention to the Master’s next toy of torture – the blowtorch.

 

Jack’s eyes widened in fear, a fact that the Master didn’t miss, and he looked, almost frantically, at the Doctor in hopes of mentally receiving an idea where the psychotic bastard would use that. His heart fell when the Time Lord merely shook his head sadly and lowered his eyes to the ground.

 

“Oh don’t worry Captain,” the Master cooed, “this isn’t for you; though come to think of it I wonder if this whole “link” thing works in reverse.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “This should be interesting!”

 

He grabbed a lighter from his pocket, activating the fire part of the torch then switched it out for the Phillips head screwdriver that he’d also placed in his pocket.

 

“No, don’t. Please!” Jack begged as he headed for the Doctor with nothing but unadulterated ecstasy on his face.

 

The Doctor clenched his teeth, shedding silent tears, as the white-hot tip of the screwdriver was driven into the smooth, ivory flesh of his upper arm, right by his shoulder joint. The tears continued to stream but there was no longer silence accompanying them; the Doctor’s cries echoed ear shatteringly loud throughout the room as the Master drove the screwdriver deeper into the flesh, roughly tearing the muscle beneath while he drew.

 

Jack couldn’t see what the Master was drawing but he didn’t care either; his focus was solely on the man who was chained to the floor trying not to writhe in agony as his flesh was cauterized and destroyed. He strained as hard as he could against the chains and eventually he felt them give a little. That knowledge alone gave him more incentive (not that his friend screaming across from him while a sadistic maniac carved something into his arm with a blunt but extremely sharp object wasn’t incentive enough) to keep straining against them, pulling hard as he could to do something, even if it was just to put his own body in front of the screwdriver.

 

The sound of searing flesh stopped but the cries of pain and the smell of burnt skin remained as the Master withdrew, used a towel to wipe the blood off the screwdriver then heat it up again. Not that the first sketch wasn’t deep but he wanted to make sure the Doctor couldn’t heal his way out of this scar, he wanted it to stick with him and remind him daily of his failures.

 

He was in the middle of tracing the same design over again with the newly heated torch when he felt dizzy and pulled a way, burning to the left of the engraving as he did so. His fingers released the button that activated the torch however not from command of the brain but from the lack of strength in his muscles.

 

“What is this?” he asked as he began to sink to the floor.

 

The Doctor, feeling that he was going to pass out soon from the pain, quickly told Jack what Martha, the immortal and the rest of team Torchwood needed to do to reverse the whole ordeal.

 

Jack nodded showing the Time Lord that he’d received his message then continued to pull at the chains. They finally gave way with a terrible snap and, after noticing that his friend was completely passed out, turned his fury onto the psychotic man currently cowering before him. Using the newly snapped chain, Jack brought his arm up high above his head then quickly brought it back down effectively snapping the chain and striking the Master hard across the face.

 

His last sight in the bright room was the horrified, angry look on the Master’s bloody and bruised face.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Jack woke with a gasp, his wild blue eyes searching around. Unbelievably there were no dart guns aimed in his face and he knew it was a good thing it was actually him surfacing and not the Master.

 

There was a flurry of activity next to him and Jack snapped his head to his left to see Martha and Ianto surrounding the Doctor, blood on their gloved hands and sweat on their pale faces.

 

“Doctor?” Jack called drawing Gwen and Tosh’s attention. They both looked at him with startled expressions but he ignored them asking, “What happened? Is he alright?”

 

Gwen came up and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, stilling his movements. “We aren’t sure yet but Martha believes he’ll be alright.”

 

“We need to get the sphere down here. I need to transfer his memories and Time Lord abilities back to him,” Jack instructed breathlessly as he sat up in an effort to leave.

 

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” Gwen responded hesitantly.

 

“Gwen, he told me what I need to do to fix all this.”

 

“Jack-“

 

“-Stop the both of you!” Martha commanded harshly. She and Ianto were no longer blocking the Doctor from view and Jack could see the pale, drawn look of the Doctor’s face and skin; he looked like he had had all the blood drained out of him. “Jack do the Time Lord abilities include his fast healing?”

 

“Yeah why?”

 

“Because right now he really needs that. His body has gone through a lot of trauma and it cannot cope with all of them. It’s putting too much stress on his hearts and he’s heading for a double heart attack soon.”

 

Jack eyes widened and he no longer waited for anyone’s approval as he raced off to his office for the sphere. He looked around frantically when he realized that it wasn’t there, tossing his office papers across the room and eventually flinging his desk to one side in his frustration.

 

He ran back down to the catwalk above the medlab. “Where is the sphere?” he demanded loudly.

 

“Alien artifacts,” Gwen answered wholly unsurprised by his tone.

 

With speed that wasn’t often attributed to his bulky frame, Jack sped through the empty, damp halls of the Hub and straight to the alien artifacts room where he immediately found the sphere sparkling brightly under the solitary light in the room.

 

It burned at his touch but the Captain ignored it, spurring his feet on with all the speed he had as he raced back to the medlab. He didn’t bother waiting for anyone’s “OK” before he grabbed the Doctor’s closest hand and placed it upon the white-hot sphere; clearly it didn’t want what was about to happen to happen and it was doing everything it could think of to prevent it.

 

 _Go back to your rightful place,_ he commanded the string of memories that he knew wasn’t his. _Please go back to him; he needs you!_

As he felt the memories leak from him to the Doctor with a fluid-like feel, Jack then focused all the rest of his quickly draining energy on gathering EVERYTHING that made up the Master’s consciousness and formed him into a ball, albeit a ball that he kicked around a few hundred times like a soccer ball but a ball none the less. With his last remaining strength, Jack threw that ball back into the sphere where it came from and slammed all communication to and from that sphere shut with a resounding _SLAM._

 

He had just enough strength left to hear Martha’s grand sigh of relief before he closed his eyes and everything went black.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

Martha stood in the medlab checking over both of her patients to make sure they were doing alright before she went over to her lab table and studied the blood that she’d just drawn from the Doctor. She already knew that he was back to his Time Lordy self but she was anxious and ready for her friends to wake and found that studying the fascinating samples of blood was the best way for her to pass the time.

 

A change from the steady rhythm of Jack’s heart monitor told her that he was coming round. She allowed a small smile; of course it would be Jack that came to first – the Doctor was currently in a healing coma trying to recover from his multiple injuries and wasn’t likely to come out for another few days or so.

 

She walked over to Jack, softly calling his name as she did so hoping that he wouldn’t wake up frantic. Her hope was a futile one as the Captain woke with a dramatic gasp and frenzied movements completed by flailing limbs.

 

“Jack calm down, you’re alright!” Martha yelled in order to get his attention as she wrapped an arm around his chest, her hand holding on to his arm.

 

It took a few moments but soon Jack’s frantic blue eyes calmed and focused on her. His breathing was still a little too quick for her liking but since he was no longer flailing about like a fish out of water she wasn’t going to complain.

 

“Martha?” he asked still trying to clear the fog of sleep. “Hey beautiful,” he greeted trying to sound more like himself.

 

“Hey yourself,” she answered with a grin, “you’ve been asleep for over two days. I had to keep checking the monitors to make sure you were alive.”

 

Jack laughed, his normal laugh and making his dimples appear. It wasn’t hard to figure out why almost everyone and their mother was fond of the American – he was very attractive and charming to boot. “Yeah well you know, getting tortured and killed, even in your mind, is exhausting.”

 

Now it was Martha’s turn to laugh. “I suppose it is.” She removed her hand from his arm and chest and moved it to his back in an effort to help support him while he moved to sit up. The smile faded from her eyes when she noticed him looking around then frown.

 

“Where’s the Doctor? Is he alright?”

 

“He’s alright, calm down,” she soothed when she saw him becoming agitated again. She waited patiently until he calmed before she continued her explanation. “We moved him to the TARDIS to further help his healing. She’s taking very good care of him, alerting us whenever he’s beginning to wake (which so far he hasn’t) and I think they’re both enjoying being able to feel each other again.”

 

Jack nodded, easing off the bed. “Thanks,” he said before he headed straight for the TARDIS. He smiled as he felt the pure joy coming from the ship, even if there was a sad, concerned not underneath it.

 

“Hey there gorgeous,” he greeted placing a hand on the outside of her door and giving it an affectionate rub. The TARDIS purred underneath his touch letting him know just how much she loved him; no one else, save the Doctor himself, had this close a connection with the ship and Jack knew it. “How’s he doing?”

 

The joyous hum changed, allowing the sad, concerned notes that he’d heard earlier to be at the forefront. The still semi-happy tone told him that the Time Lord would be alright but right now he was still hurting.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make him feel better.” Jack chuckled when he felt the time machine rumble in a way that closely resembled her owner’s exasperated, ‘Jack!’ Never the less the doors opened allowing him entrance and he walked to wherever she was leading him. He didn’t think that the Doctor would be in the medbay, even though he should be, because he wasn’t’ comfortable there and the TARDIS knew it.

 

Sure enough the ship led him to the Time Lord’s bedroom where he was currently sleeping peacefully on his bed. He noted that he TARDIS must have changed out his normally small bed for a king size, four poster bed. It wasn’t overly decorated but there were soft, comfortable sheets and a decent sized down comforter on top. It looked REALLY comfy if Jack was honest with himself and it made him want to curl up and nap right next to his injured friend.

 

The size of the bed was no doubt to ensure the Doctor was comfortable and wouldn’t fall out should he begin to thrash in his sleep but it also managed to leave just enough room for Jack to crawl on and lay on his side, keeping careful watch over his friend. It hurt to see him this injured but he was thankful that the Time Lord healed quickly so he wouldn’t have to be in pain for too much longer; he probably would be mostly okay by the time he woke up from the healing coma actually.

 

The Doctor lay not quite in the middle of the bed with one very fluffy pillow supporting his neck. A light bruise spreading from his cheek to just below his eye covered the left side of his face coinciding with the brutal smack the Master had given. His body was supported so there wasn’t a lot of pressure being placed on his left side, giving his shoulder blade a chance to heal while causing as little pain as possible; the left arm was in a sling to further the healing process.

 

His left foot was braced in an effort to restrain movement but still allow Martha access to the surgical sight underneath the bandaging. It was supported by a couple of pillows to help reduce swelling and pain and if it wasn’t for the fact that the Doctor was not only asleep but injured, Jack probably would have tickled the toes just because he could.

 

The right arm was also in a sling but unlike the left side there wasn’t any bone damage to help rest. No, this was to avoid stressing out the damaged skin while it healed the best to its abilities. The Captain had this sneaky feeling that no matter how much healing was done, the arm would forever bear the gruesome scar the Master had carved so cruelly into it.

 

Fury rose within Jack. How could someone do this to the Doctor, his Doctor?! He was the most caring being that ever walked the universe; there wasn’t a being in need that the Time Lord didn’t want to help – the Master was a perfect example of that. Sure he could be frightening if you got him angry but more than likely if you were in need, you wouldn’t be able to get him that mad in the first place so it wasn’t actually aimed at you.

 

The Doctor stirred briefly, mumbling and whimpering when his movements disturbed his injuries. Jack curled closer to his hurting friend without actually touching him, knowing that he’d be able to feel his presence without touch. He reached out a gentle hand and ran it lovingly down the right side of the Time Lord’s face. “Sh Doc, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

 

A rumble from the TARDIS helped to soothe the agitated Doctor and another small one told Jack that the Time Lord wasn’t only his but hers as well and she echoed his anger at the one who’d done this.

 

Jack waited until his friend had calmed then he settled in to wait for the time when the Doctor actually woke.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Pain was the first thing that the Doctor’s mind registered. It wasn’t as horrible as it had been before he’d unconventionally passed out but it was still there. Most of his injuries were pretty well healed but the engraving upon his right arm was still pretty painful. The extent of the damage that had been done was severe enough that even his normal healing capabilities weren’t enough to fully repair the injured limb. He knew he would experience pain in the arm often, more than likely if he over stressed the arm and how often does that happen really?

 

“Doc?” Jack’s voice called to him realizing he was awake.

 

The Doctor turned his aching head towards the voice, commanding his heavy eyes eyelids to open and behold the concerned face next to him. Softness beneath his aching body registered with his mind and he looked around to find that he was lying on top of a really comfortable bed. “Are you in bed with me?” he asked.

 

“Well you know, you looked comfortable up here so I thought I’d join you. You aren’t the only one that’s recuperating you know,” Jack teased with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Better,” the Time Lord answered sleepily, unconsciously snuggling against Jack’s warmth and solidity. He grimaced as his newly healed and still healing injuries grumbled against the movement. “Still not 100% though.”

 

“Give it time,” Jack encouraged not complaining one bit about the cuddle, “in the meantime, how’s the pain? Do you need me to get you anything?”

 

“I’ll be alright for now,” the Doctor answered doing his best to snuggle closer while not aggravating his injuries. “You okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Jack assured running his hand soothingly through the spiky, dark cinnamon brown hair, every so often massaging the scalp beneath. “Do you want a bit of tea before you go back to sleep?”

 

“How do you know I’m going to go back to sleep so soon? Time Lords don’t sleep as long as you bloody humans do, maybe I want to go for a walk. Weell, not a walk, a limp I suppose since I don’t think my foot’s quite ready for full weight bearing but still the concept’s the same.” He closed his eyes, exhausted and annoyed by just how tiring that little rant was. “Tea!” he exclaimed weakly remembering Jack’s original question. “Yes tea would be lovely, thank you.”

 

Jack gingerly disentangled himself from the injured Time Lord and went to go grab a cup of tea and a banana. The Doctor likes bananas and if anything it would help sustain his system while it continued to heal. He came back not five minutes later and found the alien trying to sit up without putting too much pressure on his injuries.

 

The immortal quickly placed the tray of goodies on a nearby table and hastily rushed over to the other man’s side, assisting him in sitting up while asking the TARDIS to provide a few extra pillows so he could use them to support the hurting Doctor. The pillows appeared automatically and Jack used them to help hold the Time Lord up as he moved the rest of the Doctor’s body so that he was, mostly, comfortable.

 

“Thanks,” the Doctor said once the moving was finished. Rassilon he was exhausted and was really ready for a nap but he knew he needed a little bit of sustenance in order to finish healing and a good cuppa tea and a banana sounded divine.

 

After he handed the Doctor his cup of tea and the banana, Jack rejoined him on the bed. He was only partially teasing when he’d said that the Doctor wasn’t the only one that was recuperating; he himself was still feeling the aftereffects of the torture, dying, and transferring.

 

Cocooned in the warmth of Jack, the softness of the bed and the comfort of the tea, the Doctor soon succumbed to the nagging tug of exhaustion, perfectly happy with staying in this place for days.

 

Jack waited until the Doctor’s breathing evened out to slow and steady before he allowed himself to relax enough to fall asleep as well. Over the next few days the Doctor would need help and he was willing to give it but he needed to sleep some more first.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Martha sat in the lab looking over the example she’d just taken from the alien that was currently lying, dead on the exam table when she heard uneven footsteps heading her way. She looked up with a huge smile on her face, “Hey you.”

 

“Hello Doctor Jones,” the Doctor replied returning her smile. He winced as he slowly made his way down the stairs, each step jarring his currently burning arm and making the pain in his foot worse with each movement it made. “I’m here for my check-up per your request.”

 

She resisted the urge to run to him and assist him knowing it wouldn’t be appreciated nor accepted and instead settled for standing near the only empty exam table, patiently waiting for him to get himself upon it.

 

Silently she examined him, making sure to keep her touch as feather light as she could as she ran her fingers over his barely healed shoulder blade and foot. He gasped when she rotated his left arm, checking his range of motion but otherwise made no show of pain during her inspection. She could tell by the way he was holding his right arm alone that it was still hurting so instead of giving a physical examination she settled for slowly pushing up the sleeve of his tee shirt and using her eyes to examine it.  

 

The flesh surrounding the engraving was inflamed and looked infected while the marking itself was still raw though held together by stitching. She grabbed some cream the TARDIS had given her and spread it liberally over the cut, wincing whenever he let a pained hiss escape through tightly ground teeth.

 

“Is it normal for it to hurt this much?” she asked concerned by just how much pain he was experiencing. “I know it was deep but that should have healed by now shouldn’t it? Given your healing ability.”

 

“The Master wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be able to heal that particular mark any time soon. There was a chemical on the screwdriver that made sure it would heal just as slowly as a human. So I expect it will be quite painful for quite some time.” He groaned when she pressed a little too hard on the wound and she stilled her hand immediately. His left hand curled around his right arm, hugging it to his chest and he avoided looking at Martha because he knew the moment he did she would apologize and there really wasn’t a need for her to do that; it wasn’t her fault at all that he was hurting this much – it was the Master’s.

 

Martha waited for him to stop guarding his arm so she could wrap it up in gauze then place it back into the sling. She was thankful that the cream the TARDIS had provided was not only a pain reliever but an antibiotic as well otherwise the movement of his arm would have been very painful for him.

 

“Well do I pass the test _Doctor_ Jones?” he asked her giving his most winning smile.

 

She knew he was trying to soother her worry for him and for now she would let him. “With flying colors,” she answered of course not mentioning his very injured right arm since they both knew it would be awhile before that was feeling better.

 

“Brilliant! I think I shall take a walk, is that alright?”

 

“Of course just make sure you rest if you need to; and not on the floor where you stand either!” she called out to him as he skittered as fast as he could with a limp out of the room. “Men, no matter where they’re from they’re all the same aren’t they? Well, I don’t suppose you would know would you?” she ranted at the dead body on the slab.

 

She spared a quick glance at the doorway before she picked up the phone and called Jack. She didn’t know where the Doctor was going but she had a feeling he could use the company.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

Jack found the Doctor standing in the Alien Artifacts room staring down at the sphere which he had moved from its spot on the far top shelf to the wooden table that sat in the middle of the room. His face held a mixture of anger, sadness and regret but it was the anger that shone brightly through his eyes when he looked up at the Captain.

 

“Did you come to break our table again?” Jack joked with a half smile as he stepped into the room.

 

The Doctor blushed, staring down at the crack that split the table into two parts. “Sorry about that, I’ll fix it before I leave.” He looked down at his arm which was still in its protective and supportive sling then added, “Maybe.”

 

“Don’t worry about it, adds character.” Jack had heard from Martha what the Master had put on the screwdriver, making it so the wound would take as long to heal as a human’s would and would scar terribly not to mention the damage that had been done to the muscle, and quite possibly the bone as well, beneath.

 

The same fury from before rose within his chest again and he found himself wondering who dare think they had the right to touch HIS Time Lord. But the answer to the question was simple – the Master. It didn’t stop him from feeling overly protective of the Galifreyan and wishing he could destroy everything that even closely reminded them of the psychotic Time Lord.

 

“Does it really bother you?” the Doctor asked in no more than an angry whisper. His eyes were still trained on the sphere but his mind had gone back into the most recent history.

 

Jack cocked his head in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Does it really bother you that I mourned the Master after the year that never was?” the Doctor clarified drawing his gaze from the sphere to where Jack stood, shocked and uncomfortable.

 

“Yes,” he answered truthfully knowing that the Doctor probably already knew that. “Yeah it bothers me that you could mourn the sadistic son of a bitch that killed millions, enslaved hundreds of thousands, and tortured,” he stopped short to change the last word, “you.”

 

A humorless smile played upon the Doctor’s face, “What you meant to say was tortured you. Don’t get me wrong I know you’d be upset that he tortured me but you also know that I wouldn’t be as upset about that as compared to if he tortured someone else.”

 

“Okay so fine I did mean me. After that hellish year I think I’m allowed to feel a little bit of selfishness!” Jack snapped in an answer. He began pacing back and forth as an outlet for his furious energy. “I mean how could you? How could you actually think that that monster could be rehabilitated after all that he’d done?! Do you even know half of the things he did to me? Or the things that he threatened Martha’s family with each and every day, drawing such sadistic pleasure out of their pain that he would actually giggle like a little girl? How could you even forgive the atrocities he committed let alone the disgusting thing he was? If all Time Lords are like him then I’m glad that they’re dead because we don’t need any more Masters running around this world; one Time Lord’s enough for us!”

 

Jack chose that moment to clamp his mouth shut, his eyes a cross between horror, pain and pleading. He knew he’d gone too far but once his mouth had gotten going, his heart wouldn’t shut up. Surprise shook him when he looked into his friend’s eyes and found the expected pain that his words had caused but also found acceptance and guilt there as well.

 

No!! He doesn’t want the Doctor to accept his words and guilt! None of it was his fault and Jack knew a thing or two about being the last of his kind. If he found someone from the Boeshane Peninsula that was as crazy as the Master had been he didn’t know if he’d be able to stop them as the Doctor had done. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to find that someone only to be tortured by them then to lose them again. Damnit! Damn him and his big mouth!

 

“I knew,” the Doctor whispered, his voice easily cutting through Jack’s self-raging. Just as he opened his mouth to say more, the Time Lord swayed as if an 100 kilometer per hour wind had swept through the room and his eyes closed while it looked like all the blood had suddenly been drained from him.

 

Jack grabbed a chair and placed it firmly behind his friend then gently grabbed his elbow to help steer him into it. Guilt tightened his stomach into knots when he discovered that the Galifreyan was shaking badly though he wasn’t sure if it was from the effect of his words or from the memories that were currently tormenting him.

 

“Doc, listen I’m sorry, we don’t have to talk about this. Maybe we should get you back into bed with a nice cup of tea, you look quite pale,” the Captain soothed, urged, and pleaded all in one. Martha would kill him if she knew the Doctor had been reduced to this state and he wasn’t really looking forward to dying so soon again.

 

The Doctor turned his suddenly ancient, tired and bruised looking eyes up to Jack and the immortal felt his heart break for the man before him. “Don’t think we’re done,” he warned sternly as he held out his hand for Jack to grab.

 

That small act was a blow to both of them. The Doctor hated that he was so weak and tired that he needed the Captain’s help. It was infuriating to say the least. But for Jack it was just painful to know that his Doctor needed the help (not that he wasn’t willing to give it because he SO was) and the pain only increased when he wrapped his arm around the too thin body.

 

Normally he didn’t give a second thought to the Doctor’s weight (well, okay he did but it was usually on the plus side of things) and it didn’t bother him to touch or hold the alien but now, feeling each and every one of the ribs beneath his fingers made him worry that too much pressure would make them break and that thought scared and worried him.

 

Together they made it into the TARDIS where the ship hummed cheerily at them then quickly sent another concerned hum, checking to see if her Time Lord was alright. The Doctor must have closed his mind off to her because soon she was knocking on Jack’s mind almost frantically demanding answers. Jack did his best to assure the sentient ship that things were alright, that the Doctor had over tired himself and just in need of some rest but he could tell that she wasn’t buying it totally and kept an ever present close watch on the both of them.

 

Thanks to her distress however the TARDIS had placed the Doctor’s room as the first door off the console room and soon Jack was helping the Time Lord into the same king sized bed he’d been occupying the entire time during his recuperation.

 

Jack didn’t know if the TARDIS’ nervous energy was being channeled through him or if it was his own desire to bring any form of comfort to his injured and hurting friend but in the end it didn’t really matter. He’d flown around the room quickly getting the Doctor anything that he needed or anything that Jack thought he needed then fluffed and organized the pillows so he was comfortable before escaping to the kitchen of the TARDIS and returning quickly with a cup of tea, a couple slices of banana bread and a couple of the Doctor’s favorite biscuits.

 

The Doctor wanted to tell Jack that all of this attention really wasn’t necessary but a part of him couldn’t bring himself to do it. He liked the over caring, over bearing version of the Captain and he appreciated the man’s desire to make him feel comfortable (especially because right now he didn’t think he could move even IF he wanted to which considering the amount of pain that comes with moving at the moment, won’t be any time soon).

 

Exhaustion still clung to him like a lost child and Jack’s presence made him feel better. A small part of him felt that he had the right to enjoy a little bit of self-indulgence and he wasn’t about to turn down a volunteer who was willingly allowing him to do just that.

 

As he slowly drank his tea, Jack stood off to the side fidgeting like a school boy who had gotten in trouble and been told to stand in the corner. It made the Doctor a little annoyed, a lot nervous but most of all it just made him weary with pity.

 

“Jack,” he beckoned frustrated by just how tired he felt, “come over here and sit down would you? You’re making me look calm and that’s saying something if I do say so myself.”

 

He watched as Jack gave him a pitifully apprehensive look before doing as he was told though he kept a good distance between the two of them as he chose to sit on the edge of the bed looking like he was ready to spring up at a moment’s notice, which knowing the Captain – he was.

 

“How are you feeling?” Jack asked pure concern flowing off him and slamming into the Doctor making him wince.

 

“I’m fine,” he assured, happy to know that he actually meant it. Oh sure he felt exhausted beyond belief, his head had now begun to ache thanks to Jack’s emotions practically attacking his mind, and his injuries were throbbing quite painfully but it wasn’t like the Captain needed to be this nervous about his well being. “Now back to our conversation-“

 

“-Doc we don’t have to talk about that now. You’re still healing and need the rest.” Jack interrupted, his blue eyes practically begging the Doctor to listen. But if there was one thing the Time Lord was (well besides a genius that is) it was stubborn.

 

“I knew everything that the Master did during the year,” he began, fully content to ignore Jack’s pleading. “I knew what he did with Martha’s family because every time he’d finished he’d come and gloat about it to me. I knew everything he’d done to the world and its occupants because he’d broadcast it proudly in every single room then come and discuss it with me, at length, later on in the evening.” He paused to take a few sips of tea and a small bite of banana bread. “But mostly I knew far more about what he did to you than even you were aware of.”

 

Jack’s shoulders slumped in defeat and his eyes closed in an effort to hide the tears that had begun to flow. Even as the challenges came out of his mouth, the Captain had known that there was no validity to them. Of course the Master would boast about the Doctor’s failures to him every single day, hoping to break him. Jack and everyone upon the Valiant knew that. He knew that the Master sometimes recorded their sessions together and had shown them to the Doctor when he’d go for his nightly visits but it wasn’t until recently that he found out just how intimately familiar the Doctor had been to the pain that the Master had caused him and it broke his heart.

 

“I am so sorry,” he whispered brokenly, making sure to enunciate clearly the word ‘so’ in an effort to emphasize just how sorry he truly was. Tears were now streaming down his cheeks despite his attempts to stop them and the continued from streaming to straight out flowing like a river when a soft, shaky hand covered his and gave a squeeze of comfort.

 

“I never wanted you to find out about the connection,” the Doctor admitted leaning back against the bed and using his physical connection with Jack to drag him closer as well. He wasn’t an overly physical type of being but at this precise moment he knew that they both could use the comfort and, while he wasn’t normally comfortable with providing comfort, today he was willing to give Jack almost anything he wanted or needed.

 

The Captain had a lot of open wounds that were constantly attracting salt and most of them the Doctor himself had caused. If there was every a being in this universe he owed a little physical comfort to, it was Jack.

 

When the Doctor pulled Jack closer to him, using his arm to nudge Jack into a cuddle, the Captain felt his hold on his emotions break and soon he was crying brokenheartedly onto the Time Lord’s chest in great heaving sobs. The Doctor let him cry, realizing that this was a long time coming, and merely used his hand to rub soothing circular motions on his back. It made his newly healed shoulder blade hurt but he could ignore the pain for this.

 

Jack practically jumped when he felt another body engulf him in a comforting hug but soon he was too far drowned by his emotions to care who it was. The touch felt good and he had never been one to turn down a good hug.

 

Now it was the Doctor’s turn to apologize. He leant his head down, gave Jack a kiss on his head and whispered, “I am so, so sorry.”

 

Though it was meant for Jack it was also meant for Martha who had been the extra person that had joined the pair and was now cuddled up against Jack, holding him in a motherly-like protective embrace. When the Doctor had apologized he made sure to keep his gaze on Martha, showing her through not only his words but his eyes that he meant every single word of it.

 

Tears that had been held back for more than a year started trickling down her lovely cheeks and the Doctor wished that he was in a position to be in the middle of them, holding them through their grief. Jack seemed to have psychically sensed what the Doctor had wished because soon he and Martha were holding each other, crying, while the Doctor still kept hold of Jack. The position was awkward to say the least but none of them cared. This was their time for healing and they were gonna take it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Something dull but pointed was digging into his side making it pretty darn uncomfortable to sleep. He tried to ignore it but it soon became too annoying and Jack shifted only to jump in surprise when he received two groans in response. “What the?”

 

He looked around to find Martha curled up almost completely on top of him, who happened to be a great deal on top of the Doctor. The Doctor was slowly opening his honey-brown eyes but Martha remained sound asleep.

 

“Don’t wake her,” the Doctor whispered into his ear, his voice gruff with sleep and, more than likely, pain. “I doubt she’s had a good night’s rest since before the year.”

 

Jack gently shifted her so that she wasn’t dependant on him to be the mattress then quickly moved so he wasn’t putting any pressure on the injured man next to him. “How are you feeling?” he asked wincing by just how ridiculous that question sounded.

 

“Alright,” the Doctor answered honestly seeing no reason to lie which was good since a grimaced soon crossed his face afterwards.

 

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Jack didn’t really relish the idea of trying to get off the bed without disturbing either occupant but if the Time Lord needed something, he would definitely get if for him.

 

“I’ll be okay for now thanks but I could use some help shifting around.”

 

“What do you need me to do?”

 

“If you could just reorganize the pillows so they’ll support me better I think I can manage to scoot myself up more so that I’m sitting rather than slouching. This position really is hard on my back; I guess I’m not as young as I used to be eh?”

 

Jack managed to get the pillows re-fluffed and reorganized fairly quickly then helped the Doctor to scoot back since he was having difficulties doing it on his own. He have a pained gasp then moaned the air out of his lungs when his right arm had been accidentally bumped against the solid wooden frame of the bed but otherwise stoically held any other sounds of pain in hoping not to wake Martha.

 

Unfortunately Martha had been trained to wake upon hearing ANY sound of pain and was almost instantly alert when she’d heard the Doctor’s.

 

“Doctor, are you okay?” she asked, jumping to a sitting position on the bed to eye him clinically.

 

“Yeah I’m alright, just a slight bump that’s all. How’d you sleep?”

 

“Good. Really good in fact. I haven’t slept that well since, well I dunno when but it’s been a long time.” She stretched for a moment then got off the bed, walked around it and began taking the Doctor’s double pulse. Her mouth curved into a frown at her findings but she didn’t say a word to either man before she walked out.

 

The two stunned men looked at each other quizzically but merely shrugged as Jack got off the bed and went to take care of some bathroom business. While Jack was busy, Martha came back carrying a syringe filled with what the Doctor recognized as pain medication, a cup of water and an ice pack.

 

“Your pulse is a little too fast for my liking so I thought I’d give you some intravenous pain medication to help lower it a bit,” she explained, waiting only slightly for his approval before she plunged the needle into a vein in his left arm and emptying the syringe. “From the looks of things I’d also say that you’re probably a bit dehydrated and could use some fluids so drink up! Also I’m not sure if it will really help given that you’re already colder than we are but I brought an ice pack for your arm; I thought it might help with the tenderness.”

 

She handed him the glass of water, waited for him to finish it then switched it out for the ice pack that she’d just activated. She patiently waited for a few minutes to see if he could apply the pack without causing himself too much pain but it soon became clear that he wasn’t able to so she took over, gingerly sliding his arm out of the sling and holding it partially out to the side so she could apply the ice pack then wrap a compression bandage around it to hold it in place since the wound was in a tricky spot.

 

“Oh good, you’re back!” Jack greeted warmly as he came back into the room. “Listen I was about to go get some food, any preferences?”

 

“I don’t know about you two but I could go for some pizza,” Martha answered while looking from one man to the other.

 

“Sounds good to me. Doc?”

 

“Sounds marvelous. I haven’t had a good pizza since 1943, Brooklyn. For some reason my companions never really crave pizza so I don’t often get a chance to eat it.”

 

Both Jack and Martha refrained from reminding the Doctor that 1943 was only 65-70 years ago because they both knew that it was more than likely that it had been a lot longer for the Time Lord.

 

“Pizza it is then. I’ll be back. Don’t throw a party or dance while I’m gone,” he chided with a wink before he exited.

 

The Doctor looked a Martha for a few minutes before he lowered his head to stare at the fabric of the comforter. “Listen, if you have other things to do please feel free to do them. I’m still quite knackered so I think I’m going to take a quick nap while Jack’s out and you certainly don’t need to be here for that.”

 

Martha worried her lip for a few moments before saying, “Actually if you don’t mind, I think I’ll join you in that nap. I’m quite knackered myself and that bed is quite comfortable.”

 

Once upon a time, Martha’s suggestion that they take a nap in the same bed would have worried him, given her feelings for him at the time but now that he knew she only viewed him as a dear friend he was more than willing to share his big, comfy bed with her.

 

Gently he padded the spot next to him, “Come on up.”

 

Martha smiled widely at him and rejoined him in the bed, leaving PLENTY of room in between them as she spread out.

 

“Got enough room there have you?” the Doctor teased leaning into the pillows and closing his eyes. “I think we could fit both Jack AND Ianto in that space.”

 

“What? I like to spread out, is there something wrong with that?”

 

“No, not at all. I do pity your poor fiancé though.”

 

“Oi! He’s perfectly fine with how I sleep so you just shut your gob and go to sleep.”

 

The Doctor chuckled, making Martha laugh as well. They both knew that it wouldn’t take Jack long to go get the food but they didn’t care; it felt good to be joking, laughing and enjoying each other’s company again. The silence between them grew, not out of lack of things to say but out of the mere comfort of it and before either one knew it, they’d fallen asleep.

 

Jack discovered them moments later and quietly tip toed out of the room to put the pizza in the TARDIS’ oven to keep warm before he slipped back into the room and slunk down into his previous spot of right in between them. Surrounded by his closest friends and his family all in one, the Captain fell asleep and for once didn’t dream of the Master, the year that never was, nor the horrors of the rift. He felt love flowing from both of them, blanketing the room with it and it was that blanket that soothed him and lulled him into a wonderfully dreamless sleep.

**~fin~**


End file.
